


Bonded

by otterbeans



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Attempted Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2184831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otterbeans/pseuds/otterbeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No fancy title or short, quick-witted summary from me this time. This is an ABO dynamic Jean/Marco AU fic, based off of another author's work. Completely readable on its own. You get what's on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** **Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've lost all respect as a fanfiction writer. I've gone from CANON ONLY, to SORT OF AU, BUT JUST ONE THING DIFFERENT BECAUSE I SAY SO, to FANFICTION BASED ON ANOTHER FANFICTION THAT IS ENTIRELY AN AU AND ALSO MPREG.
> 
> I await the bricks to come flying through my bedroom window.
> 
> You can read the original work if you want to (which you should, because it's better than this tripe), but I have made and will make efforts to make this fic completely readable without doing so, because, well, it's hella fucking long, and not Jean/Marco, which I know some of y'all ain't interested in. If you have any questions or want anything clarified, feel free to leave me a comment and I'll answer it post-haste!
> 
> Also, I'm playing this ABO thing pretty fast and loose, with my own interpretation. Each fic I've read with Dynamics has worked with different rules, so I'm guessing no-one really cares anyways. Sorry if I offend any... purists, if such a thing exists.

As soon as their suspensions are up, and the gym's manager is convinced that the place won't be torn apart if he lets the two of them in at the same time, Jean and Eren make a habit of working out together at least once a week. Although their differences are settled, they're still very competitive, and run each other ragged seeing who can lift the most, run the longest, box the hardest... Anything they can make a sport of. Jean is a little bit bigger than Eren, and yet usually finds himself losing out. It drives him nuts, but in a good way. He's never been more fit in his life.

After the world's most intense game of handball (they'd even gained a few rowdy spectators during the final points) which Jean happily wins from having a few extra inches of reach, they hit the showers for the day. He's absolutely drenched in sweat, and there's no way he's going to stink up the apartment like this. Marco already complains that it smells too strongly of smoke, from one of his less savory habits.

Jean runs his fingers over his left scent gland as he washes, making sure to get any hormonal smell off of him too. His dominant scent is pretty strong from beating Eren.  He feels the hard line of his mate's scar and grins to himself.  If only he'd been there to see him win.

Eren's bonded too, isn't he? Sometimes he absolutely reeks of it. Jean glances surreptitiously over to check his neck, while he washes his hair...

"Holy shit," he gawks, unable to help himself, "you have a Beta too?"

"Huh?"

Eren is rightly confused; he isn't privy to Jean's thoughts. But Jean can't believe he never noticed before. A bite mark on each scent gland, each with a different pattern of teeth-- He could've _sworn_ when he first met Eren, he checked, and he only had one!

"Your scent glands!" Jean hisses to him in a stage whisper, realizing that he's caught the attention of half the locker room with his first outburst, "you're marked on each side!"

"Oh..." Eren covers himself up on one side, as if self conscious. Jean slaps him over the back, grinning wickedly.

"Don't be _shy_ , you sly fox! Everyone thinks about it-- Is it a guy or a girl? Hell, I don't know anything about either of them... Are they both Betas? How is it, keeping up with two?"

Eren smacks him away with a faint growl, still feeling at his neck tenderly. It's a common thing for a Dynamic to do, when they're craving the reassurance of a mate that isn't there.

But Eren is an Alpha. He should be the one doing the reassuring. He often strikes Jean as inexperienced, but this is just...

"Something wrong?" Jean extends his metaphorical hand, “are they okay?"

"Of course they're okay!" Eren regains some of his usual vigor, and stands a little straighter, "I take care of them! _Good_ care of them!"

"Alright, alright! I believe you! Don't bite my head off!"

Jean huffs, and goes back to washing under his arms. Eren sticks his head directly under the faucet to cool off.

"I just..."

"What?" Jean shoots back, unable to hear him over the sound of running water.

Eren turns his dial off, and sighs.

"I don't have a beta."

"Haha, good one," Jean laughs, turns off his shower, and wraps a towel around his waist, "yeah, and I keep a spare Omega in my sock drawer, for when I'm feeling extra horny."

He turns, expecting Eren to follow him, hit him, _something_ , but nothing comes. He's just standing there, staring at him, with that unnervingly piercing look of his.

"You..." he swallows, "you can't be serious."

Omegas and Betas are different. Betas can just have mates, and be satisfied, like a human is. Omegas... Omegas have _needs_. They need to be dominated. They need to be satisfied. They need reassurance that they'll always be taken care of. Even the strongest, most selfless, dominating Alpha couldn't possibly handle two Omegas at the same time. If he slips up, even once... He's seen Marco go through enough heats to know that it must be absolute torture without an Alpha there to properly care for him.

The final word is, it's unheard of, and Jean expects it least of all from this kinda awkward, young, hot-tempered Alpha.

"I know it's... weird," Eren says, like it's secondhand news, twisting his own towel anxiously, "but I do. I'm really not supposed to tell anyone, and it's so hard! They're my everything, and I'm not supposed to talk about them? Ever? Could you imagine never talking about Marco? You talk about him all the time!"

Jean can only blink as Eren's onslaught of words begins to drown him. He belatedly realizes that, yeah, Eren actually doesn't talk about himself a whole lot, let alone his mates. He never noticed until now. Maybe this is what Marco means when he says that he needs to improve his people skills.

"And you're my friend, right? You won't tell anyone. You'll keep it a secret!"

"Uh... Yeah. Of course I will."

The words fall out of this mouth before he even gets a chance to think about them. When he comes around, Eren is already shaking his hand a little too vigorously. It feels weird to touch him, like the puppy you just bent over to pet suddenly revealed itself to be the kind of dog that's only two meals away from being a wolf.

"Thanks, Jean... I-- I really mean it. Sometimes I feel like I don't know what I'm doing, and... Just, being around you makes me feel better. Thanks."

Holy fuck, did someone get the number on that bus? Eren goes back to his locker like what he just said means nothing, but Alphas don't just talk to other Alphas like that and _walk away_. And one that has two Omegas? Jean was expecting to be torn apart, not... Complimented? Was that a compliment?

He stands there, slack jawed, unable to process what had just happened to him. And this can't be the end of it either. What in the world has he gotten himself into?

\--

The two of them live together in an apartment. It's a cozy affair, not far from the city-center of the Packs.

Comfort is the number one concern, followed by utility. There are plenty of places to fall down, sprawl out and relax in, and next to them, places to set down a drink, or a magazine, and stash the remote. Refreshing air flows through the room when the windows are open. On one sill is a menagerie of potted plants, all of them Marco's, except for one sturdy, well-loved cactus belonging to Jean. It's a home that is exactly what it needs to be, and nothing else. They like it that way.

"Hey, m'back..."

Jean stumbles in a catatonic state. Marco is home, and notices his change in demeanor immediately; Jean always comes home from the gym with Eren either pleased with himself from winning whatever bet they'd placed between themselves, or sulking and needing a good ego stroke because he didn't. Right now, he just looks dazed and confused. He nearly gets up from his spot reading on the couch to check his scent and see if he's alright.

"Jean?" he pipes up as his mate crosses the room, reaching into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and heading for the balcony, "what happened? You look... lost?"

"You wouldn't fucking believe what happened today," Jean mutters, leaving their screen door open so he can continue their conversation while he smokes, "Eren, he told me-- shit, just a sec."

His phone is rumbling in his pocket. He checks who is it, and his eyes widen.

"Speak of the fucking devil! I knew I wasn't going to get off the hook so easy..."

Marco watches him curiously, wanting the story that he just got the first few words of. Jean accepts his call, still leaving the door open; he doesn't care if Marco hears one side of their conversation. He'll tell him what's going on afterwards anyways.

"Hey, this is Jean," he leans the phone between his ear and shoulder, lighting a cigarette, "if you can't top what just went down at the gym, I'm hanging up."

"Haha, very funny, Jean," Eren replies, with about as much sarcasm as Jean has ever heard him use, "no, I need to talk to you. I'm in major trouble."

"Wow, you told someone a secret you weren't supposed to tell, and you got in trouble," Jean takes a long drag of his cig, "that is definitely a first. In like, history in memorium."

"Memori-what?"

Jean wants to slam his head into a brick wall, _this man has two Omegas._

"Forever, Eren."

"Don't make fun of me!" he shouts, causing the line to crackle, and Jean leans his head away. He can hear as Eren takes a deep breath to calm himself-- he must really be in a hard place if he's willing to put up with Jean being such an ass just to have his help, and he has to respect that.

"Okay, I won't. Settle down. What do you need me for? You end up telling them what you told me?"

 "I-- Yeah. I can't lie to them. Even just not telling them stuff is like lying... Anyways, Levi says he has to meet you now."

"One of your Omegas?" Jean says, and Marco furrows his brow, obviously thinking about how that can't be right, "it's not like I don't want to, but why should I have to listen to him?"

"Because that's how he is! He has to have everything in order all the time, and this is kinda important..."

Eren hesitates, making a groaning noise in the back of his throat.

"There's a whole lot of stuff that you don't know. A lot. That's all I can really say."

Jean ponders the cigarette in his mouth thoughtfully. He takes another drag before responding.

"Well, I guessed there has to be a story behind you. You're kind of a weird kid to begin with, and then you tell me you have two Omegas..." Marco stares at him incredulously from across the room, and Jean holds up a finger to signal him to wait, "Alright, I'll bite. I'm curious. I'll come."

"Oh, thanks!" Eren sounds beyond relieved, "and you'll bring your Omega, right? Marco? They want to meet him too."

"Uh, yeah. I'm not about to stride in on your territory without him," especially when he has two Omegas. He wants to make his intentions clear.

"Great! I hope you like kids, the babies are crawling all over these days..."

" _You have kids!?_ "

\--

"...M'sorry for dragging you into this."

It was later settled that they would make their visit to Eren's place that weekend. It ends up being a nice, if brisk day, so they decide to make a walk of it. The Survey Corps headquarters isn't that far away from where they live, and they could probably both use the fresh air and time to clear their heads before dealing with this uniquely difficult situation.

"Don't worry about it!" Marco insists, after Jean apologizes for the seventh time, "it's not like I couldn't say no. And I know Eren too; he's not a bad guy. It's going to be fine."

Jean sighs. It's easy for Marco to say that; he doesn't have much on the line. He's just coming to be supportive, and a buffer, like an Omega normally does. _Jean_ was the one that was going to have to deal with Eren, and his awkward way of making conversation, and being the intruding Alpha on the claimed territory of _two_ Omegas _with kids..._

"...Seriously Jean, everything's going to be okay," he feels Marco's fingers lace with his, catches a hint of his Omega's calming scent, deep, earthy and sweet. He takes a deep breath, and feels some of his tension drain out of him, "cheer up. You're doing something really nice for Eren, Alpha to Alpha. I know it's not easy, but... Whatever happens today, I know you can handle it."

Jean makes a low, contemplative noise, and brushes cheeks with Marco affectionately. It's as good as any thank you. They hold hands a little tighter, and they walk some distance in silence, before Jean's lip curls in amusement.

"You're just happy because you're going to get to see babies."

Marco flushes red underneath his freckles, turns away, and Jean cackles as he knows he's hit his mark.

"I knew that would seal the deal for you! You're the most predictable... It's adorable."

"W-well, you haven't forgotten, have you?" he spits back, bristling and ready to hiss, and it makes Jean want to pin him up against the nearest wall, shove a knee between his legs and kiss him to death, "you said to me, in my next heat, we could try!"

They've been bonded for a few years, have shared plenty of heats together, and are effortlessly comfortable now, the sign of a deeply connected pair. That's when most Dynamics decide to have children.

Marco is a typical Omega in the sense that he has always loved the idea of raising a family. Jean needed a little more time to mature. Recently, however, he's come to the personal realization that it has been long enough. Continuing to wait now isn't waiting until they're ready, or prepared, but simply delaying. There's no point in that. He didn't want to deny Marco of what he had always wanted any longer.

And... He's been feeling different lately. Maybe it's an instinctual thing, but he's been finding himself longing to make his mark. To take his next step as an Alpha and care not just for Marco, but for a whole family. He's really becoming comfortable with that idea. Just thinking about it causes a surge of warmth to tingle throughout his body. _Family._

"Yeah," Jean replies, sobering up a little, "I think I could handle it now, but are you ready?"

In the end, it's up to him. Having a baby is undoubtedly more difficult for the Omega than it is the Alpha.

"Maybe we'll see today," he responds, still just as defiant, and Jean can't help but give him a little nip on his nose, which startles him in the cutest fucking way. God damn if he could just toss all this shit out the window and go home to smother his mate into oblivion...

"Isn't this the Survey Corps building?"

Fuck reality.

"Yeah..." Jean grumbles, and they enter. They're met at the desk by a guard, who calls up to where-ever Eren lives to get their okay to go and visit. While they're in the elevator, Jean notices Marco gently bouncing on the balls of his feet. He's so much easier around others than Jean will ever be...

"Oh, I was wondering--" Marco adds as they hit their floor, "You said his mates names were Armin and...?"

"Levi."

"Levi..." he frowns in thought, "That's what was bothering me. I've heard that name before... The Survey Corps-- _Oh my God._ "

Marco snatches Jean's hand away before he can knock on the door, and speaks to him in a forced whisper.

"Jean! It has to be _him_ \-- our strongest, the _Wings of Freedom!_ "

"No way," Jean dismisses, "I've seen that guy in the news before, he has to be an Alpha. And he's been on mission for years now. He can't be Eren's mate."

He knocks, and hears Eren's _coming!_ from some distance inside, which is then cut off by the sounds of a small scuffle, an irate voice, and quick, sharp steps approaching the door.

A short man with dark features and what looks like a permanent scowl, judging by the lines pressed deeply into his face, greets them.

(I use the term "greet" very loosely. Greeting normally implies a sense of welcoming. Levi opens the door like he wants nothing more than for them to leave immediately.)

And, as usual, Marco is entirely right. It _is_ Levi Ackerman. He stares at them with intense scrutiny, and they both take an instinctual step back to respect his space, exchanging a nervous glance. But once satisfied with their presence, the man heaves a put-upon groan and moves out of the doorway, giving them room to come in.

"Come on. We don't have all day."

They still hesitate, but Marco nods, and brushes past Jean to enter first, the correct etiquette in this situation.

It takes Jean an extra second to gather his nerves, expecting Levi to be an Alpha, but... Even the most cursory scenting quickly reveals that he is indeed an Omega, bearing the strong smell of someone still breastfeeding.

He has a child? Jean finds it almost impossible to believe, realizing that the only conclusion he can draw here is that it, and he, belongs to Eren-- Stupid, goofy, hot-tempered Eren, dominant over this taciturn man. But the atmosphere refuses denial. Stepping inside assaults him with several powerful Omega scents, wafting around the apartment like they're in some kind of fragrant candle store. Jean can already sense Marco responding in parasympathy.

"Jean! Hey!"

He gets a _proper_ greeting from Eren, approaching him with even more enthusiasm than usual. But any Alpha-- hell, any Dynamic is always happier in their own household, surrounded by their own smells and comforts.

"Thanks for coming. And sorry about Levi," Eren glances over at the man, who rolls his eyes and walks over to the kitchen, "sometimes he's even more territorial than I am... And, um...!"

He turns around, and having been so distracted by Levi, Jean notices the other person in the room for the first time. Over by a cozy looking couch, sitting on the floor with two babies playing gently with some colorful toys is a... Woman? Man? He can't tell. They're quite petite, with soft features and medium-length blonde hair pulled into a small ponytail. Beautiful, in the opposite way that he finds Marco to be beautiful. Eren offers them a hand, and they stand up, pulling some loose hair behind their ear.

"This is Armin," Eren introduces them, showing off a little as his chest fills with pride, "And those are our twins over there, Morgan and Flynn."

From this distance, Jean can now tell that he's a man, although a very effeminate one. Armin seems somewhat shy, but his blue eyes are full of intelligence. He holds out his hand to shake, and Jean takes it gently.

"Hi," his soft voice is naturally soothing, much more an Omega than Levi is, "It's nice to meet you, Jean. Eren talks about you a lot. And this is...?"

"Marco!" he replies, taking Armin's hand as well, flashing one of his sweet smiles, all crinkles around his eyes, "It's nice to meet you, Armin."

He looks up at the other Omega, and his curiosity is plain. Eren gives him a little nudge of support.

"It's okay, Armin. You can say anything you want."

"Oh, well..." he looks down a little, blushing lightly, "it's just that... He's bigger than Jean..."

" _Excuse me?_ "

Jean growls, but Marco laughs, and Armin startles. Marco gives his mate a shove to keep him under control and puts a warm hand on Armin's shoulder.

"Oh, I like you. You cut right to the quick!"

Armin is still a little dazed, but he's already gravitating towards Marco. Yes, he's bigger, but all that is 100% teddy bear, and he makes that very plain about himself.

"I'm sorry," he gives Jean a little glance, who snorts and looks away, "I've never properly met another bonded pair before-- an Alpha and an Omega. Because Levi and I aren't that big, I just assumed..."

"You've... Never met another bonded pair?"

Marco tilts his head at him, and then looks back at Jean, who shrugs at him with an equally bewildered look. Armin covers his mouth, belatedly realizing how strange that must have sounded, even if this was going to be a tell-all sort of meeting. How could a Dynamic have never met another bonded pair? What about their families?

"Don't worry," Levi returns from the kitchen with a tray of coffee mugs, which he sets on the table with a peculiar grip, not touching the handles. Jean notices he looks at Armin with a particular gentleness, "we'll explain everything, eventually. Here," he passes one mug to Armin personally, already dosed with cream and sugar, "you'll probably need it."

"Mmm..." Armin takes a deep breath of the coffee's wafting steam, and sighs, "yes, thank you."

He turns to return to his children. Marco starts to follow, and Armin raises his eyebrows at him.

"Ah, um..." Marco makes a few useless hand gestures, unsure of how to communicate, "I was just wondering if I could join you?"

"With the babies?"

Marco nods. Armin is genuinely surprised; he didn't think anyone would be interested. Eren inches forward with a low growl, but Levi cuts him off with a measured step.

"Calm down," Levi mutters, snapping Eren out of his protective instincts, "you've got nothing to worry about. Most Omegas naturally group together and take care of each other, and they're hard-wired to love children. He probably just wants to play with some babies."

"Bingo," Jean grins, and Marco blushes again. Eren is still grumbling a little.

"Are you okay with that, Armin?"

"Oh..." He looks up at Marco, and sees him in a new light. Another Omega, like him, with his instincts, natural and gentle. Armin smiles, "Of course. I'm fine, Eren," he gives him a reassuring nod, and takes Marco's hand, "let me introduce you to the boys."

That brings the room down to a comfortable level. Marco settles down with Armin on the floor as the babies slowly crawl about, and Jean sits with Eren and Levi at the nearby table.

"So..." Jean begins, now that everything's evened out, "where are we gonna start?"

\--

For awhile, Marco happily connected with Armin's babies while listening closely to their story. Morgan was especially adventurous, crawling onto his lap and reaching for his face, entranced by his freckles. He picked him up and let the baby grab his nose, absolutely in love with the little goober. Having him around calmed Armin down too, as he saw how nurturing even complete strangers could be. It had been so long since he really trusted someone outside of his family... Trusting Marco was a good start.

But the babies eventually had to be put to bed, and just in time for more serious talk to begin. Everyone gathers on their roomy couch, coffee in hand. Jean opens his stance to invite Marco to cuddle into his embrace.

They're aware that Dynamic experimentation went on outside of the Packs. It was just an unfortunate truth, and part of the reason the Survey Corps exists at all: to ensure their continuing freedom within the Packs, and perhaps someday, the world. But outside parties having the power to _create_ Dynamics from humans is a concept that has just recently hit the press. Now they know why. Eren and Armin are the proof.

Jean asks all the probing, important, scary questions, and Marco asks all the gentle, supportive, concerned ones. Between them, they're able to deduce the whole truth.

It's terrible, and frightening. Eren's life in a lonely Alpha haze. Armin's cruel treatment. How they were forced to breed and bond without any time to love each other first. Marco gives a discontented whine at the thought, and Jean softly croons and holds a hand behind his neck to ease his unhappy pains.

"...I get how you lost it, though," Jean speaks up at learning that Eren existed at a sub-sentient level for so long, "And how Armin brought you back. Alphas are just... Imagine if all Dynamics were Alphas, yeah? We wouldn't have society. We'd all be too busy having pissing contests and tearing each other apart to get anything good done. We need Omegas and Betas to even us out. It's the whole reason why we bond."

Eren looks at him, and then looks away, as if seriously thinking. Armin is rubbing his back. Levi hums contemplatively.

"Pretty insightful. I'd thought the same thing, when I first met Eren, but I didn't have the luxury to try and bring him back myself."

"Really?" Eren turns to Levi.

"Yeah. But if any of those sensors caught a whiff of my pheromones, I would have gotten captured a lot faster than I ended up being."

The smaller man is taken into a soft embrace, as Eren folds his arms around him. Jean is surprised as Levi allows it to happen. They did owe their entire escape to Levi, so it's easy to see how they would become attached to him. But the fact that he _returned_ the affection... That was part of something more personal and complicated, and it's the one place he won't go.

"I think that's enough," Armin says quietly, scratching the nape of Eren's neck, and even though it does nothing for an Alpha, he still closes his eyes in appreciation. "you understand now, right? Why all of this is so new to us still..."

"Yeah, we get it," Marco replies, also trying to make sure no-one becomes too upset over such a difficult topic, "you don't need to push yourselves."

"Thank you," the blonde smiles softly, and gives Eren a kiss on the cheek. They nuzzle as lovingly as any pair bonded for years, "In return... Could I ask the two of you a question?"

Jean and Marco exchange a look. Jean shrugs and drinks some of his coffee. Marco nods at Armin.

"Sure, if there's anything we can answer."

"Well... What is it like, for a dynamic to bond naturally? How did you meet?"

Jean turns ever-so-slightly red behind the rim of his mug, but Marco couldn't be happier to regale Armin with the story.

"Of course I can tell you," he happily replies, snuggling up to his mate, "Dynamics don't show what they are, an Alpha, Beta or Omega, or develop a scent until they're around 16 to 18 years old. We're more or less like humans until then. But Jean and I were friends way before that even happened."

"I was kind of an early bloomer; I found out I was an Omega just before I turned 16. And, well-- you can see how that would make things difficult..."

" _Marco_ ," Jean groans, finding a pillow to cover his face with.

"What?" Marco gives him a light smack, "oh, grow up, we all know what heats are."

...Okay, so Eren and Armin are looking at him like they don't, but still.

"I was way too young to be spending my heats with anyone yet, so we were kind of awkward for awhile. And then Jean got his wind when he was about 17, and holy crap, it was a flaming shitstorm. Most Alphas turn nasty when they're first learning the ropes, but he was just _awful_. They kicked him out of school. I was the only one that could get him to function with any amount of reason. Even once he'd gotten himself under control..."

"Okay, okay, they get it! I was an asshole! Can we move on, please?"

"You're still an asshole," Eren interjects.

Jean shoots him a dirty look.

"I was _really_ an asshole then."

"Hey, it's important!" Marco insists, "you even started smoking then, remember? To help cover up people's scents?"

" _That's_ why you smell like cigarettes?" Levi smirks behind his own mug.

If Jean had it in him to beat the crap out of an Omega...

"You were just a kid, Jean, you were doing your best," Marco placates him, patting his head, "Anyways, we actually tried to avoid bonding for a pretty long time. It's not something that can really ever be reversed, so we were really careful, and tried exploring a little bit. But honestly..." he looks at his Alpha with all the fondness in all the world, who is having a hard time making eye contact while remaining composed, but offers his hand for him to hold  "I was always miserable without him. And no matter where he wandered off to, he always wandered back to me."

"Eventually we realized how stupid it was for us to keep dancing around it. Our hearts were already bonded. The actual bonding was just completing the other half of a circle that already existed."

Marco looks up, and sees that Armin is also holding hands with Eren, completely attentive and alert, almost entranced by his words.

"And is that sort of relationship normal for a bonded pair?"

"Oh, it all depends on the person!" Marco waves his hand a little to disperse the thick feeling in the air, "Some people meet after puberty, some people choose after one night of sex... It all depends on what feels right to them."

"I see..." he nods, and looks to Eren, who kisses him on the forehead, "I'm much more used to being a human than being a dynamic, and honestly... It comforts me how human your story was. Sometimes I feel like I'm being controlled by my instincts, and it scares me a little."

"Don't be," Marco leans forward to address him personally, "Your instincts aren't there to control you, they're there to _help_ you. Listen to them like they're giving you advice, not orders. You'll feel a lot better then, trust me."

Armin blinks at him, and then nods again, fluttering.

"I-- I honestly hadn't thought of it that way before."

"...Good Omega," Levi murmurs, swirling the dregs of his coffee in the bottom of his cup.

\--

They stay some time longer than they originally intended to, but they learned much more than they expected, too. It's dark, chilly and quiet by the time they leave. Jean holds Marco's hand as they cross the lonely streets, and won't take no for an answer either.

"Well that went down like a lead balloon," Jean comments, after they've both had some quiet time to gather their thoughts. Marco smirks.

"You're just embarrassed because Armin asked how we met," he nudges Jean with his shoulder, and looks up to the few stars they can see through the light pollution, "...Although I agree, what happened to them is terrifying. I was amazed by how well they seemed to come out of it all. Armin really loves those babies, no matter how they happened."

"...You feeling okay?"

"Hmm?" Marco looks back down at Jean, realizes what he's implying, and shakes his head, "oh, no. I did feel very sympathetic towards him, but I know that could never happen to me. And they seemed so close, you know? Like everything had made them really strong. So if anything, it proves to me that we can make it too."

He leans his head against Jean's, their warm breath mingling in the cold air.

"I really... I really want a family."

Jean nods.

"Yeah. Me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Marco goes into heat.
> 
> If you liked this, please leave a comment or a kudos. I am a narcissistic, egotistical creature, stunned by the sight of myself in mirrors and hypnotized by the sound of my own voice, and I subsist entirely on the approval of strangers.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, that's the fastest 50 kudos I've ever gotten. You guys are great. My existence is totally validated.

Jean wakes up with senses so sharp, that even in the darkness of the small hours of the night, he can see the tiny textural imperfections in the paint on the ceiling.

It's so jarring it's almost painful. Jean groans low in his chest as he tries to ascertain the source of his problem. What normally causes him to become this hypersensitive? He isn't in any danger-- he knows that feeling, and while it's similar to this one, it lacks the chill of dread. He also knows there aren't any threatening Alphas nearby. That's just, duh. The smell would be really strong, and he'd know right away...

Wait. While thinking about scents, he cants the air, and there's definitely something in it that's setting him off. He sits up and sniffs again, opening his mouth a little to let the smell linger in his nasal cavity. Familiar warmth spreads through the back of his throat.

 _Marco_. Jean turns to his mate, blissfully sleeping through any immediate issue as he does anything else: like a rock. So Jean has no qualms with leaning over to bury his face in the crook of Marco's neck, and inhaling deeply.

"Son of a fuck--" Jean grumbles, and notices that his voice is already becoming lower, "Marco, wake up."

Marco's face pinches in displeasure, and he murmurs sleepily. He's notoriously slow to rise. Jean knows now that they don't have the luxury of time, so he doesn't bother with lesser tactics. He drags his tongue up along Marco's scent gland. The Omega gasps in response, eyes flying open at the sudden shock of pleasure.

"Jean," Marco breathes, covering his neck in reflex, "what's gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into me?" he huffs, still tasting that particular scent lingering like a perfume in his mouth, "you're the one that's going into heat out of the blue."

"Heat? I can't--" Marco starts, and then feels a tingle in his throat, crawling up his glands, "-- _oh_."

"Told you," Jean feels at his forehead for any fever as Marco sits up too; none yet, thank God, "it's still pretty faint, but I know when you're going into heat."

"But how?" the Omega whines, tenderly massaging his throat, "I haven't had any symptoms, or felt like bulking up at all... It's not even close to my normal time, either."

"Mmm, there's something different. Give me a sec."

There's something about his scent that he knows from somewhere, but can't quite put his finger on. Jean leans in again, and Marco tilts his head away to give him better access. He sniffs intently, wondering where he recognizes this from, until realization hits him like a ton of bricks.

"Shit! I can't believe it," he growls with chagrin, tinged by possessiveness, "It's Eren's fucking Omegas!"

Marco hums in question, and Jean buries his face in his hands, pulling them up through his hair.

"You smelled what was going on in there today, right? I've never had to pick through so many different Omega scents in my life, and I could feel you responding too. The air was fucking _thick_. Something in there must have set you off; it's still on you."

"Oh-- Oh yeah," Marco covers his mouth with his hand, and then his eyes, trying to recall properly, "I felt something weird when I went in there, but I've never smelled something so strong before either. I thought I was just adjusting."

"Adjusting, sure," Jean snorts, "adjusting yourself to join everyone else in the room and have a baby too."

Marco looks away with a small whine, covering his scent gland again. When he looks back, he's so red and positively _bashful_ , like he's done something wrong, that Jean changes his tune immediately. He's just too fucking cute.

"Hey, hey, no," he envelops his Omega in a tight embrace, "don't worry about it. It's not your fault or anything-- like you went into today thinking, 'hey, I'm totally going to go into heat!' And even if you _did_... it's not like I could blame you for it either."

"...I do want a baby though," Marco looks up at him through his parted bangs.

"Yeah, and we've talked about it. So it's fine."

Worries placated, Marco takes a deep breath. Jean is crooning oh-so-softly, and it feels wonderful to be held, but...

"...We better start getting ready."

Jean nods, and presses a quick kiss to his mate's forehead to break off their hug.

"Yeah. You go cram whatever you can in you-- as much as you can. I'll change the sheets and take a smoke."

They have a set of bedding they keep especially for heats, "heat sheets" if you will, already completely ruined and covered in stains. It doesn't matter what they do on them now; they can't get any dirtier. Marco wanders into the kitchen to stuff himself silly while Jean puts them on the bed. They don't have any scent left on them, heats don't come frequently enough for that, but the sight of them is still personally exciting.

Ah, yeah. Their places of work need to be alerted too. Usually a pair is able to more or less predict when a heat will happen, and plan accordingly, but... well, accidents happen. They've never used this excuse before for anything, so it should be fine. He grabs his phone along with his lighter and a pack of cigarettes before leaving the room.

When he passes through their living space to get to the balcony, he sees Marco trying to simultaneously eat a bagel slathered in peanut butter and drink a full glass of milk with all the success of a real Omega male of his size. Jean smirks as he steps out half-naked into the cold air, scanning the dark city and lighting a cigarette, one of the last he'll have for the next couple of days. He savors the addiction, no longer to cover up scents, but for the taste and the weight of it in his mouth. He also types up an email for his boss and Marco's on his phone while the end of his cig slowly reaches the filter.

He chain smokes three of them before he's satisfied, smothering the last butt on the tray he keeps out here, and turns to go back inside.

Marco is no longer in the kitchen. Jean rubs his body vigorously to warm himself back up, and peers into their hallway. The bathroom is occupied, and the pheromone-heavy scent coming from it is extremely strong. He knows what's going on in there. He leans his back against the door and drums the pads of his fingers against the wood.

"This soon, huh."

He hears a muffled groan.

"I'm way too slim. I'm gonna be dying of starvation by the time I sleep this off."

"Don't worry about it," Jean pats the door reassuringly, "You'll be fine. I'll take care of you."

"You better! I'm testing your reliability here! You will be graded!"

Jean chuckles, his voice becoming rougher, more gravely. One last thing-- he wanders over to their windowsill, to water their plants and spray Mr. Prickles. There. Now who can say he isn't responsible? The toilet flushes, and Marco wanders back into their room. Jean gives him a moment of space to sort out whatever thoughts he might have, since he won't have much time left in control of himself, and having him around will only exacerbate the matter.

...But he can't hold himself back for very long either. He can feel the near-telepathic nature of their bond tugging at his heartstrings as his Omega longs for him. A low growl rumbles in his chest as he lets his Alpha instincts wash over him, filling him with strength and confidence. He enters their room, shuts the door behind him, and takes a second to admire Marco from a distance; already naked, sitting up with sheets loosely covering his lap.

"It was kind of strange," he says, staring off absently as Jean slides in next to him and threads their fingers together, "I started to look for the pills out of habit, but then..."

"Nope," Jean kisses his freckled cheek, and he giggles, "not today. I'm gonna get you _so_ pregnant."

 _"Jean!_ " Marco protests, outright laughing now as he pushes their faces apart. Jean nibbles gently on his digits with a lazy grin, enjoying how he can see even the tiniest sensations of pleasure slowly set his mate aflame.

"Seriously Marco, just crazy amounts of pregnant. Ridiculously pregnant. You won't even know what hit you, like, 'damn, I am fucking pregnant.'"

"Oh my God, stop saying it! You're making it weird!" he laughs again, lapsing into a small moan as Jean sucks on one of his fingers, releasing with a wet _pop._

"It's what you want though, right?"

Jean takes his hand to his mouth and kisses it, looking up to him in question. Marco smiles with his whole face, his whole body, and nods.

"Yes. Yes, ever since we bonded, _oh_. Jean..."

He gives a deep, shuddering sigh as he feels his heat climb, growing more intense with each breath instead of rising and falling with his lungs. Soon, he won't be able to stand it anymore. Marco leans his body into Jean's, relishing the hot skin contact and the sound of his possessive growl. He has to swallow down the whine that tries to push its way out of his throat.

"Do you... Do you want...?"

He can't finish his question. Jean's intense stare takes what little breath he had left away from him.

"Of course," he takes Marco's face in one hand, feeling his fevered flush, "I want a family. I want you to have my child, Marco."

The warm emotions of contentment and love that course through him from hearing those simple words are so strong that Marco feels his heat respond, a few pounding heartbeats spreading a surging burn through-out his body. His cock springs up from half-hardness, and slick starts to weep from his ass as his desire for mate starts to go out of control.

"Jean, please...!"

Marco sees his eyes dilate, hears his breathing shift, and knows that the Alpha inside of Jean is taking over. All the better! He's scuffed by his neck, and his body goes slack, making it easier for his Alpha to lie him down and position him however he pleases. He's laid on his back, and his legs spread apart-- oh, how he loves the feeling of those rough hands on the insides of his thighs; it sends bolts of pleasure straight to his dick-- and Jean positions himself between them, their erections rubbing together.

(When did he get naked? Who even cares?)

His Alpha is licking at his scent gland, and pumping their cocks together with his free hand. The act is several times more pleasurable than it is normally and he could easily get off in seconds, if not for his ass, begging to be fucked. It spasms in response to what he's feeling, and Marco practically yowls at the sensitive emptiness. If only he were filled! It would feel so good! He arches his back so high it lifts him off the bed, murmuring Omega mewls plaintively, and feels the warmth of Jean's responding growl as he lifts his head to capture his mouth in a rough kiss.

Jean pauses as the kiss deepens, drawing back to smack his tongue against the roof of his mouth with the most peculiar, thoughtful look on his face. Marco tilts his head and makes  a questioning noise, wondering what could possibly pull him out of his mid-heat frenzy.

"...Peanut butter," he replies, running his tongue around his teeth, "did you even chew that bagel?"

Marco's face screws up in amusement, glad he's still able to weather a pause and appreciate humor.

"No time. I inhaled it."

"That's my Omega," Jean rumbles, and kisses him again, sticky mouth be damned, "you can always pack it in."

"God, Jean, what kind of compliment is that?" he wraps his arms around him, feeling his muscled back, his bony shoulder blades, "you're positively feral-- Ah, _Ahn!_ "

Another wave of heat consumes him, and it leaves him panting for breath, hips twitching in need. A shining trail of pre-come drips down his cock, and he's beyond wet. He knows he's hit his limit. He needs to be fucked, before the animal in him takes over, and he starts presenting like some kind of bitch. Jean flashes a playfully malicious smile at him-- _who’s feral now?_

But he doesn't dare tease his Omega for long. He hitches Marco's legs up, and he takes care of the rest, latching them around Jean like his life depends on it. It's the perfect angle, and with his slick already running down the insides of his legs, Jean meets no resistance as he slides into his mate's ass. Marco tosses his head back and lets out the most satisfying moan, coming right out of his gut, _oh, yes_. He knows how his Alpha feels, every ridge and vein, and his ass clenches down in response. Jean rumbles encouragement, feeling his own intense pleasure, and begins to roll his hips.

Jean's cock strikes his prostate, and white-hot ecstasy blinds his vision. He's shaking, mewling, feeling his Omega instinct crying out to be heard, and he gives into them. He doesn't care about anything but being filled by his Alpha, and latches onto his scent gland with his teeth so he doesn't dare part them. Jean growls, loud, and Marco growls back, moving his ass to goad him into thrusting faster, and he replies just the way he wants him to, pounding him so hard the wet sound of skin slapping against skin is so loud that it drowns out their heat-soaked cries.

The feeling of his knot forming is so perfect Marco practically sings. He loves to be stretched, filled to the brim, tied together... Jean's thrusts become more shallow and frantic as can no longer fully pull back, racing to reach his orgasm, and Marco has his, cock spraying and ass clenching down hard as it rides out. It pushes Jean over the edge, and he comes, milked by Marco's rhythmic spasms. He nudges his mate away from his neck with a sweep of his head, and begs him for a kiss, wet and sloppy and brief between much needed gulps of air.

"Oh, Jean..." he breathes, unable to think or process any other words, and just purrs, as loud as he can, to convey his happiness. Jean cards his hands through his hair. He can still feel the knot, hard, emptying out into him, and it fills him with warmth. The all-consuming feeling of his heat abates just enough for him to relax.

"Mmm," Jean croons, leaning back against the head of their bed, taking Marco to lie on top of him as they still can't separate, "shh. Get some rest. You've got a rough couple of days ahead of you."

Marco nods, and closes his eyes, the feeling of a strong hand kneading at the back of his neck goading him into sleep. He may have an hour, two if he's lucky, before the insatiable desire wakes him up again.

\--

Four days later, Marco is at the tail end of his heat. As they expected, he's completely out of energy. He didn't have enough food in him to maintain his stamina for a full heat, especially one that ended up lasting this long. He can finally feel the hot prickle of his skin start to cool, signaling his last mating, but he still needs just one more...!

Unable to use his limbs to hold his weight in any capacity, he's completely at Jean's mercy. Marco lies on his front, and Jean sits on his knees, hauling his Omega's ass towards him so he can fuck him from behind, no effort on Marco's part needed. He's tired too, but he's an Alpha. He'll go forever if his Omega needs him to.

As Jean plunges in and out of him with long, slow strokes, Marco feels an odd, insistent desire pressing him from the back of his mind. He's not sure exactly what it is, but he doesn't feel any need to stop Jean. His thrusting grows faster, harder, and the instinct becomes harder to ignore. He wants... He wants...

As soon as he feels the knot, it's like an electric shock, and he scrambles uselessly with his arms, trying to prop himself up. Jean winces as he tugs a little too hard when they're fully tied, and clamps a hand on the scruff of his neck to try and get him to stop moving.

"Whoa, Marco, calm down-- what's the matter with you?"

Even having his neck touched barely helps. Marco leans away from his hand, fully exposing his scent gland, the one that marks their bond.

"My Alpha," he whines in his most pleading Omega tone, long and loud, "Please-- Please bite me!"

Feeling his overwhelming need, Jean doesn't waste time questioning him. He wraps his arms around Marco, pulling him up so he can reach his gland, and bites down.

"Harder!" Marco begs, and Jean does, hard enough to leave a mark, but Marco still whines in distress, "no, it's not enough, _harder!_ "

He doesn't want to hurt Marco, but his instincts are also telling him that he shouldn't deny his Omega right now. He bites hard enough to taste blood, and Marco screams in pleasure, unexpectedly coming and engulfing his knot. Jean is hit with a powerful Omega scent, and can clearly taste it as he obeys his instincts and laps gently at the wound he created until the bleeding stops.

"Omega," he croons gently, still nuzzling his neck, "omega, omega..."

Marco only seems somewhat aware of his surroundings as their knot eases, breathing heavily, eyes hooded in exhaustion. When they can finally separate, Jean turns him around, and lies him down. Marco reaches out and takes his hand, tugging at his arm with the last of his strength. Jean knows what he wants, and brings his neck close to his mouth.

The Omega raises his head to bite Jean's bond-mark surprisingly hard, also drawing blood. No need to tend the wound-- it closes over in moments. Jean feels it tenderly, the risen scar much more pronounced than it was before. Marco closes his eyes and licks the vermillion residue off his teeth. He falls into the deep sleep of recuperation, a final murmur on his lips.

"My Alpha..."

\--

Jean lets him sleep for a full 8 hours before waking him again, which is a difficult task. Jean talks to him, nudges him, drips water on his face, and pinches his nose closed, all to no avail. He tries kissing him, all over his face, and it only works when he kisses the still-healing mark of the bite he had just given him. Marco blinks awake in a half-conscious haze.

"You need to eat something," he says, holding his hand to keep him awake, "or you're going to be in bad shape later."

Marco takes a few ponderous breaths as he thinks this over, staring blankly at the ceiling. His limbs aren't responding, and he can't lift his neck. He shakes his head.

"...Can't."

"Yeah, you can. Stay with me. Don't fall back asleep."

He tries his best to do so. He hears the crinkling of something being unwrapped, and it piques his curiosity.

Jean returns to his field of vision, holding a small piece of energy bar between his teeth.

"Co' on," he encourages his mate, leaning forward so Marco can easily snatch the bite from him without moving, "you c'n chew i'. I's so't."

Marco smiles at his Alpha's consideration, and takes the food from him. It _is_ soft and easy to chew. He doesn't mind being fed like a baby bird-- he feels about as weak as one at the moment. Slowly, after plenty of stops to catch his breath and gather his strength, Marco eats the whole energy bar in this way. Jean then holds his head up to give him small drinks from a bottle of water until his thirst is satisfied.

He closes his eyes again. He feels Jean plant a soft kiss on his forehead, and he falls asleep.

\--

After two days of sleeping and intermittently being fed by Jean, Marco wakes up in the morning feeling well enough to rise. _Just_ well enough. His limbs are lacking strength, but if he rests any longer, the terrible pain of starvation in his gut will only get worse. He needs more than just the occasional energy bar barely keeping him alive. He needs to bulk back up.

He sits up slowly, joints popping and creaking. Jean watches him with a careful eye. He hasn't eaten more than a protein bar or two himself since Marco's heat started, and needs a good breakfast too, but still has plenty of stamina to take care of his mate first.

"You feeling okay? Ready to get up?"

Marco doesn't get the chance to speak. His stomach lets out a long, loud, angry grumble, and he wraps his arms around it, embarrassed. Jean smirks.

"Guess you don't have a say in the matter. Come on then."

Jean stands, and offers Marco a hand. He looks like he cleaned up at some point, wearing a fresh pair of pajama pants, but Marco is filthy. Cum is crusted on his body, and he doesn't even want to know why his legs are so sticky. He wrinkles his nose in disgust.

"I know I need to eat, but..."

"Yeah," Jean nods, grabbing another pair of boxers from a nearby drawer while still steadying Marco, "you'd ruin the couch like this. I'll help you with a shower."

In the bathroom, Marco catches sight of both of them in the mirror. _Too skinny_ , he thinks again, seeing the faint outline of his ribs. It bothers him more than usual. But Jean ignores it. He starts a hot shower, and gets in with Marco to make sure he doesn't lose his balance or fall. Marco does use him as a way to steady himself a few times, but gets clean by himself.

It's refreshing, and leaves him light-headed. Getting that hot and inhaling all that steam on an empty stomach isn't the best of ideas, but it's better than the alternative of getting heat all over their furniture. He wobbles down the hall, leaning heavily on his mate on his way to the couch to lie down again. Jean wraps a bag of ice in a towel, and Marco holds it against his forehead.

"You want breakfast? Or something else?" he asks from the kitchen, tying on an apron. Marco smirks-- it makes sense that he doesn't want to bacon grease to splatter on his bare skin, but honestly, wearing an apron only half-dressed? Are there hidden cameras filming this pornography?

"Breakfast sounds great, thanks."

Jean is an excellent cook. One of the ways he won Marco's heart was through his bottomless stomach. He gets out all the skillets and turns on all the burners on their oven, grabbing everything possibly breakfast-y out of their fridge to cook up. Bread goes into the toaster first, so he can keep putting more in as he cooks, and gnaw on a piece to abate his own hunger. Eggs, easy. He beats an entire dozen of them to scramble, and uses the rest to prepare an entire box of pancake mix.

Then the bacon. Sweet fuck, the bacon. Marco hears it sizzle, _then smells_ it, and groans aloud, wanton and hungry.

"Easy there," Jean calls over all his cooking, still managing not to burn a thing, "you just took a shower. Don't cream yourself."

"You're not making it easy! Are you done yet?"

A piece of toast lands near his face. Marco folds it in half and stuffs it all in his mouth at once.

"You were supposed to make that last!"

" _Don't care!_ "

Marco sprays crumbs everywhere from talking with his mouth full. Jean rolls his eyes and flips another pancake.

It takes the Big Tray to move this all to the table, and it's probably only going to be the first meal of many today. Marco lunges for the food like an animal attacking, and Jean knows he better get a good portion on his plate before the rest of it is gone. He doesn't eat one thing at a time like a regular person, he just shoves everything in at once. Pancakes, bacon, eggs toast, jam, all of it. Jean isn't sure how that can possibly taste good, but what does he know? He doesn't experience Omega hunger.

Even with the insane amount he cooked, the breakfast doesn't end up an even 50/50 split. It's more like 40/60, or even 30/70.  Marco leans back in his chair and belches long and loud, contentment written on his face and in his posture. Jean leans his chin in his hand, equally content to watch him.

"That enough for you, garbage disposal?"

"For now," Marco smiles at him, drumming his fingers on his stomach.

\--

They spend the rest of the day cuddling, napping, and devouring every last edible thing left in the apartment. Tomorrow, life goes back to normal, so they have to regain their strength.

They're both lazing on the couch in a huge, fluffy blanket as the sun sets. They should probably eat one last meal, and hit the sack early... Jean yawns, and opens his eyes just in time to see Marco tenderly running his fingers over the bite that his Alpha had given him days before.

"Is it healing right?"

Marco shifts his eyes over to him and nods, smiling with a gentle blush on his cheeks.

"Yeah. It's not infected. I... really like the mark."

"I've never heard you beg for it like that before. Not since we first bonded... You wanted it bad."

"It was weird," he leans back, staring at the ceiling, "right at the end, I felt like I needed to bond with you. _Really_ bond. So I'd know you'd stay."

Jean feels something odd rise in him, catching the intent in those words, and his senses zero in on his Omega. Barely, just barely, he smells something that he doesn't recognize. He crawls up on Marco, face in his scent gland, and the Omega laughs softly.

"You feel it too," he purrs, brushing the tips of his fingers over the soft and dusty hairs at the nape of Jean's neck, "It's not just me. I didn't get it then, but now I know..."

"I must be pregnant."

Marco gives a yelp of surprise as Jean gathers him up in his arms with fierce affection, nuzzling him, crooning loud and low, holding him tightly. He purrs as hard as he can back, and they become a vibrating ball of contentment, struggling to become closer, so close that they are the same, an unbreakable knot.

Jean would not let him go for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YOU. YES YOU, READING THIS FIC.
> 
> You wanna see something in this fic? A certain situation? A certain character interaction? Tell me here! I really have no direction here or am married to any one kind of development; I'm basically just here to please the fans. So if there's something you want me to do, I'll probably do it! At the very least, your idea might give me an idea, and that's good!
> 
> Thanks for your consideration!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First 50 kudos, and now 1000 hits? Thank you all so much! I'm aiming for this to be my first fic to get 100 kudos!
> 
> Because all ya'all seemed to want it so bad, in this chapter: Jean fucks up.

When Jean goes back to working out with Eren again, Marco visits with Armin and Levi.

...Well, mostly Armin. Levi is in his study doing work, but Marco gets the feeling he isn't the type for visits, and he wouldn't see much of him even if he wasn't busy. He's never met an Omega with such a cold disposition before, especially one that has a child, but to each his own. At least he seems to be affectionate with Armin and Eren in his own stunted way. That's all that really matters.

Marco lies on the floor, letting the twins crawl all over him as they play. He couldn't be happier, cooing and talking to them in soft nonsense, and engaging them with their toys. In just a few months, he'd have his own, his and Jean's, and he'd love them more than anything else in the world! When shy Flynn comes to him and decides to take a nap on his chest, Marco practically purrs in contentment, powerful nurturing Omegan feelings washing over him like he's never felt before.

"Um... Marco?"

He opens his eyes. He didn't realize he closed them; he's just that relaxed. Marco looks over to Armin curiously, who's tucking some of his hair behind his ear, a gesture he's beginning to understand Armin uses when he's unsure of himself.

"Yeah?" he replies, gently stroking the baby's downy soft hair.

"May I... May I smell you a little closer?"

An odd request, from a natural Dynamic. But Marco takes into consideration that Armin's ability to sense the Dynamics around him probably isn't that good from lack of experience. He's had his entire life to practice interpreting scents, while Armin has only had a little more than a year, most of which was spent in a sterile lab.

"Sure," Marco nods, and even leans his neck away a little to show him his scent gland. It's the one that Jean marked, "just don't ask that kind of thing from strangers, it's not really normal to do."

"Oh, I don't have to, really..."

"Don't worry about it," he waves a hand dismissively, "you have to learn somewhere, right?"

Armin nods, and makes that hair-tucking motion again before leaning in to sniff intently. _Now_ Marco feels a little embarrassed, but it's nothing he can't deal with. It only takes Armin about half a minute before he's satisfied. He backs off, and gives Marco a peculiar look.

"What is it? Did you smell something off?"

"Well..." He begins, and twists a stand of his blonde hair around his finger while glancing off to the side, "this may sound out of the blue, but are you... pregnant?"

Oh, wow. Nobody other than Jean has noticed like that yet--he tries to remain calm, but he can't help it as his face twists into a wry smile, a warm blush suffusing his cheeks.

"...I should have given you more credit. Your senses are pretty good."

"You _are!_ " Armin exclaims, leaning back in interest and excitement, "oh, I knew it! I know that scent really well, and I thought I caught it on you!"

"You're the first! Well, the technically the second, but of course Jean knows already... I'm kinda surprised, I'm not even showing a little," he admits, running his hands over his still flat belly, muscles and all.

"How far along are you?"

"Just two weeks. I'm kind of a big guy, so it might be a little longer before I start getting... round."

"Mmm," Armin nods, thinking back to his own pregnancy, "I'm so small, and I had twins, so it was different... Two weeks, you said?"

He looks up, staring off blankly as he does the math in his head.

"Then that means... You must've gone into heat right after we met?"

"It's your fault, actually," Marco chuckles.

"Excuse me?"

"When I met you and Levi, and all these babies all at once, and spent all day in those pheromones... It sent me into heat off-season."

Armin has a look of realization, and then covers his quickly reddening face with a groan. Marco has to hold back a full-blown laugh to make sure he doesn't wake Flynn.

"Oh God. That can happen?"

"Apparently? Don't worry, they're not an exact science. We know how to take care of ourselves no matter what happens."

"Yes... yes, of course," Armin sighs, breathing out his shame, "How is Jean, then? Eren was wondering why he canceled last week."

"Oh, he's being an Alpha," Marco rolls his eyes, "treating me like I'm made of glass, or the whole world's out to get me. That first day after my heat was over, and he knew, I was about ready to toss him off the balcony to get him to leave for work."

" _Marco!_ " he cries, indignant, but with a smile curling at the edge of his lips.

"What? We only live on the third floor, he would have lived. And even then, it's texts every five minutes, constantly calling... Yesterday I just turned off my phone. He'll get us both fired if he keeps doing that. And today, I told him he _had_ to go out with Eren like normal or he was sleeping on the couch, and he _still_ wouldn't until I promised to come and see you while he was gone."

"...Yes. That certainly sounds like an Alpha."

"Told you," Marco blows air through his lips, making a rude noise.

"But I'm surprised you can still boss him around. You're not a very intimidating person-- no offense."

"Oh, none taken. I know I'm not," he shrugs, "every Alpha needs to be pushed around a little, or else their egos will get too big, and they'll start fighting their own shadows. And the good ones always have a permanent soft spot for their Omegas."

"True," Armin smiles, "you should see how Eren just gives in whenever Levi scolds him. Sometimes I wonder who the Alpha in the house is..."

"Damn straight."

The both of them give a stationary jump, startled as Levi practically materializes in the doorway, holding Celeste over his shoulder with one arm. For being even shorter than the tiny Armin, Marco sure feels like he's towering over the both of them at the moment.

"That dumbass kid isn't going to be in charge of anything until I say he can," he grumbles, and Armin sighs with a hint of amusement. Levi takes a few more steps into the room, sniffs the air, and then wrinkles his nose, staring down at Marco in mock disgust.

"Shit, you too?"

"Huh?"

"You. You're pregnant."

"No way! How can you tell?" this time, he nearly wakes Flynn with his outburst, and pats the infant's back as he starts to burble to lull him to sleep again. Marco lowers his voice when he replies, "it can't be that strong, can it?"

"You don't smell pregnant, but you reek of your Alpha. He's been marking you like crazy. There's only one reason for him to do that to an Omega your age."

"O-oh..." Marco blushes, and looks over to Armin, who shrugs.

"I could smell it too, but I didn't know why."

"Dammit, Jean!" he groans, and rests his arms over his face, "I don't want everyone to know yet, I'm still getting used to it..."

"And here I was hoping we could use you to sit the kids... Not anymore."

Levi _tch_ 's and sits down on the couch, apparently deciding that this little pow-wow is worth his time.

"I still can!" Marco protests, "just, you've got like, 5 months. Then I might start needing your help instead..."

"Well, it's the one thing I _do_ know about being an Omega," Armin smiles down at him, "so please, don't hesitate to ask."

"...Is it really okay?"

Armin blinks, and tilts his head at him.

"I mean, you were in that _place_ ," just thinking about it unsettles Marco, and he wasn't even there. Now that he's pregnant too, he feels strong pangs of sympathy, "and I don't want to bring up any bad memories."

The blonde's expression changes, in a strange, wistful way that Marco doesn't quite understand, but then it softens, and he shakes his head with a sad smile.

"I can't change what's happened. It's in the past. But if there's even the smallest good thing I can take away from it, like helping you, I'd like to. It... eases how much it hurts."

For being so gentle and considerate, he sees that Armin also has a spine made of steel. He will not be bent or broken. Marco tries to smile in return.

The both of them look to Levi, who averts his gaze in a very pointedly apathetic way. They share a small giggle, but his gaze hardens.

"Forget that," he mutters, and stands up, lying Celeste down near Armin, "we've got a shitstorm on our hands. Marco, get up."

"Huh?" he questions, but does not wait to obey, handing Flynn off to his father. Marco stands, and then it hits him; first the tug of their bond, and then the strong scent of an angry Alpha, the one that warns everyone who can smell it to get as far away as possible.

 Jean.

Marco's pulse begins to race.

"Oh, fuck-- I'm so sorry, I thought it would be safe to let them work out like usual, if he could just blow off some steam..."

"It's not your fault," Levi looks back at him with the first hints of what he would think is kindness, or at least support, "Alphas fight. It happens. Yours probably just had one in him he needed to let out."

"But..."

"It's _fine_. Eren's doing the right thing for once, by trying to come back here instead of brawling it out on the spot. It's his territory, and you're here. If Jean has a scrap of sense, he'll back off when he sees you."

Marco nods hesitantly, and looks back to Armin, who also nods his head to encourage him to leave, his child in his arms. Levi leads him out of the apartment, as the scent grows stronger. The man seems confident, but Marco is not as sure. Jean is very protective, despite how laid back he normally is for an Alpha, despite all of Marco's teasing and scolding...

He hears a roar, familiar, and it sends a sick shiver over his skin. Levi quickens his pace, and he matches it, anxiety rising in his chest.

Eren and Jean are not far from the Survey Corps building. Judging by the states of their clothes and how deeply their aggressive pheromones are permeating the air, they've been at each other for some time. Of the two, Eren's eyes are clearer, and he seems to dodging and deflecting blows more often than he is dealing them out.

"Eren!" Levi shouts to his Alpha, who glances back, still in a state of mind to listen to reason, "What's going on? Who started this?"

"He did! _Fuck!_ " Eren hisses loudly as Jean hits him with another slash, and he kicks the other Alpha away, more of a shove than an attempt to harm, "he was being an ass all day, and then he started picking a fight when we left the gym!" he pauses to deflect him again, "I don't get it! It's weird; I don't want to fight him!"

"It's fine, you've got no reason to! Stay with me, okay?!"

"Okay!"

Levi turns back to the other Omega, stern, and far more in control than Marco could say he feels right now.

"You should be glad Eren was able to read the situation correctly; he could have torn Jean apart in an instant if he felt he was really being challenged. Now go get your Alpha under control!"

"R-right!"

Jean is rabid. He attacks without a real goal, terrible and ineffective. He's not working with precision. An Alpha in true battle to protect his family or steal something away would be breaking bones and aiming for internal organs. Jean is blinded with pointless aggression, mostly tackling at random and lashing out with his claws.

But Marco can't see that. He just sees Jean, with that look on his face and glow in his eyes, blood splattered on his clothing, and remembers something awful. He lets off a scent of fear without realizing it. Coupled with his vulnerable body language...

"Wait, no! Not like that!"

Marco tries to insert himself between the two Alphas as Levi shouts to him. He turns his head. Jean is mid-lunge.

He feels claws rake against his cheek. There's a pattering sound, like rain hitting the pavement. Marco stands there, paralyzed in shock, eyes slowly swiveling to peer out their corners.

Jean looks like he's been struck by lightning. His expression slowly melts into one of sheer horror.

"M-Marco... I'm so sorry!"

He falls down to his knees, gently touching his cheek with one finger and drawing it back to see blood. Jean gets down on all fours, even lower than Marco, whining in his throat, showing deference to his Omega when he knows he's made a terrible mistake. He tries to get close enough to lick the scratches.

" _Get away from me!_ "

Marco only lashes out verbally, but Jean wheels backwards as if he were actually hit, falling to his behind and scrambling away. He curls into a ball and continues to whine in distress. Eren steps between them, a faint growl on his lips, and Jean doesn't attack, doesn't uncurl; he doesn't do a thing.

"Hey. Hey, look over here," Levi gently prompts Marco, touching his chin to get him to turn his head. It shocks him. His heart is racing, and his breath is shallow and fast. The older Omega takes a closer look at the wounds on his face.

"...It doesn't look like it'll need stitching. He tried to pull back at the last second."

He takes Marco's hand and pulls him up onto his legs. They're about as useful as jelly underneath him. Everything feels surreal, like the world is floating on an inch of air. Like none of this is actually happening.

To Jean, it's as though gravity has just become twice as crushing.

Levi guides him back inside. Eren follows, and far behind him Jean slowly drags along. He takes Marco back to his apartment. Armin is already on his feet as Levi opens the door, anxious, one of the twins fussing in his grasp.

"Oh, Marco..."

"Get the kids in the bedroom," Levi orders, and Armin nods, "Marco, you too. Eren, keep an eye on that idiot. He shouldn't attack again unless he's fucking clinical-- These two need to be separated for a little bit."

Jean won't even enter the apartment at first, respecting Eren's territory and hovering in the hallway. He watches as Levi ushers his mate into the bedroom, and wails as he closes the door. Marco stands on the other side, clutching at his chest as he feels a pain like someone is reaching in him and _twisting_. Finally, the first tears escape him, coming with a loud sob, stinging his cheek. The pain only becomes more intense as he knows Jean can hear him, howling again in return, and the loop continues.

"Calm down," Levi sits beside him, and Marco realizes that he sat down at some point, although he's still leaning against the door. Armin is there too, still holding Flynn, "at least try to be quiet. You're freaking him out and making it worse."

Marco nods, shaking, and tries to breathe. His airways are restricted from the lump in his throat, but his crying calms. Levi cleans the blood from his face with tweezers and wads of cotton, sanitizes the scratches with antiseptic, and lays a bandage over his cheek. Armin hands Flynn over to him, and the little weight is strangely reassuring. He finds himself shushing the baby, and as he does, his own heartbeat starts to slow down.

Jean stops making those terrible noises, although Marco can hear him pacing now. The pain eases a little, but he can still feel the pull of his Alpha begging to see him.

"Alright, now that we're back on planet Earth," Levi addresses him, "what the fuck was that?"

"I-- I guess I just approached from the wrong angle..."

"Besides the obvious! Anyone could see you went in there petrified, you were just feeding the fire... And I'm guessing the reason why is the same reason you refused his apology. I've never seen an Alpha kiss the dirt so fast in my life."

"I just..." Marco slowly strokes the baby's back, "I don't like it when Alphas fight.

"Before we bonded, I was alone once, and-- I must have been near heat or something, because a bunch of Alphas ganged up on me. And it doesn't matter how big I am, I can't fight off an Alpha, let alone _three_. They... they got so close to having their way with me that they may as well..."

He remembers the feeling of hands on him, on his back, between his legs, hands that weren't supposed to be there and he has to physically will himself not to be ill. It is an insistent memory, one that sometimes has to be fought off, and so he talks about it as little as possible. He leaves it to slowly rot away in the corners of his mind, trusting the indiscriminate forces of time that both heal and destroy.

"Jean came out of nowhere like he didn't care if there were three or if there were a thousand. He was a man possessed. He tore them to pieces, and they tore _him_ to pieces before they gave up on me. I'd never seen such a bloodbath in my life. I was petrified."

Levi stares straight ahead, eyes fogging over in thought. Or maybe he's remembering something. Either way, he takes Marco's predicament with perfect seriousness.

"...So he brought up a traumatic memory, and you freaked out. Fair enough."

"But you don't think it's weird?"

"Weird? He hit you. You had a right to refuse him for whatever reason you wanted, even if it was because he missed his real target."

"No, not that. I mean, we still..."

Marco lets his gaze wander away as he trails off. Armin touches his shoulder, and he looks back up.

"You think it's odd that you bonded with him, and you let him mate you?"

He nods, and Armin scoots a little closer.

"You didn't lie to me when you said you were friends all your life, and that you loved him even before you bonded. All the more reason to love him when you did. It's okay to love someone, even after something terrible happens. Even if they remind you of it..."

He closes his eyes, and sighs slowly, then opens them to smile at Marco.

"You don't choose what it is that reminds you of that time. If it makes you feel better, it makes sense to me. Your bonding and your mating would naturally bring up pleasurable memories, while pain would bring up bad ones. So don't worry."

"Armin..."

Again, Marco sees the scope of his wisdom and experience. A lot is hiding behind that sweet facade. He lets himself smile too.

"Thanks. You really can spin a situation into something better than it was."

Marco hands the baby, now perfectly soothed, back to Armin. He rubs at his eyes with his sleeves to get rid of any lingering moisture and make himself look more alert.

"I think I should go home now."

"You're alright with that? You can stay here for a night if you want," Levi snorts, "brat needs to learn his lesson."

"Don't worry," He shakes his head at him, "I need a little time, but... really, it's okay. I know he won't hurt me."

He stands, and his legs feel much steadier. Marco reaches out for the doorknob and hesitates for just a second. The other two Omegas stand nearby in support.

The door opens in. Jean's body spills into the room in an undignified heap. He must have been sitting and leaning against the door as well-- he makes a noise that can't be classified as anything other than a squeak and quickly pushes himself up to his feet, trying to approach Marco, looking at the bandage on his cheek...

"Jean, stop."

He instantly freezes in place, not daring to take another step. Jean keens high in his throat, and it hurts him to see his Alpha in so much mental agony, but he remains firm. He doesn't want to be touched right now.

"It's alright. We can go home, I just... need some space. Okay?"

Jean takes a shuddering breath, and nods. He shakes and holds himself like a junkie on withdrawal, but does not approach again.

\--

For the next few days, Jean does everything he can to respect Marco's space. He doesn't touch him. He sleeps on the couch. He stops texting, stops calling, stops nagging, everything, satisfying himself with the fact that Marco didn't cut him out of his life completely.

Jean has never felt this kind of longing before. It's like being stabbed in the chest with a frozen knife. He has a pregnant mate! He should be there for every moment, caring, celebrating!  Knowing that he can't makes him feel like half a man. When out of the house, he finds himself submitting to everyone in his depression, even Omegas and other Alphas. He is thoroughly punished, and thoroughly miserable.

The worst part of it is he knows exactly why. He remembers what happened to Marco all those years ago. Any Omega would be scarred. And more awful still is the fact that _he_ was the one that hurt him. That's a terrible thing for an Alpha to process. It goes against every feeling of love and instinct to care he has towards Marco. Thinking about it drives him insane with grief.

Three days after the fight, Jean returns home from work. He doesn't announce his presence. He shuts and locks the door behind him quietly, and scans the apartment.

The sun has nearly finished setting, but none of the lights are on. Marco should be home by now-- and he is, Jean can smell him, waves of discontent and a hint of pain coming from the bedroom. Senses heightening in response, he turns the corner to peek in on him.

Marco is lying on the bed, already changed into more comfortable night clothes. He has a cold cloth over his eyes and is breathing slow, controlled breaths. There's an empty plastic basin sitting next to him.

Oh. Morning sickness. It hasn't really hit Marco that hard; even when he's nauseous, his appetite is good enough that he just trucks through it. But it looks like it's gotten the better of him today. Jean feels his heart squeeze with a need to comfort him, and Marco must feel their bond react. He turns his head.

"Jean..." his voice sounds a little strained, and he takes another deep breath, "you're home."

"Yeah. Not feeling so great?"

Marco shakes his head, one hand held over his flat stomach.

"For being so small, it's been giving me crap all day. Barely made it through work..."

"Is there anything I can..."

Nope, not going to get to finish that sentence. Marco bolts upright and shoves past him, making a beeline for the toilet. He throws the door closed, it bounces back slightly, and Jean hears the sound of the toilet lid being flung up followed by a retching noise that makes _him_ gag.

Hugging the porcelain throne has to be one of the lowest places on Earth. Marco moans quietly, freezing sweat running down his neck. He doesn't care anymore, he's sick, he's lonely, and he wants his Alpha...

"Jea--"

It's a testament to Jean's speed when he appears at Marco's side before he can even finish calling his name, which is only one syllable long. He kneels down beside his mate, leans his head against his shoulder, rubs his back and croons loudly.

"It's okay," his voice rumbles deep in his chest, "it's okay..."

He's not only comforting Marco, but himself as well. Jean fills the small room with his scent, and Marco sighs in relief. Lately he feels like he can smell _everything_ , and this is the one of the few aromas that doesn't make him want to vomit. He wipes his mouth off with some toilet paper, flushes, and lets Jean take him into his into his arms. Their bond almost burns with his desperate need for his Omega as he holds him possessively close.

"Can I carry you?"

Marco nods. Jean gathers him up and lifts him with all the visible effort of picking up a kitten. He takes him back to their room and carefully lays him back on their bed, leaving only for a second to grab him a bottle of water out of the fridge. Marco gratefully takes a sip, washing the bad taste out of his mouth as Jean sidles up close to him. His scent envelops him again, calming, gentle. Almost carefully so.

"Marco, I'm so--"

"No," Marco stops him, and Jean lowers himself in submission. But Marco just shakes his head, "no, don't apologize. You already did. You have been every day. I just needed some time."

"I'm still sorry. I hurt you. I can't take that back, ever."

He doesn't raise his head. Marco sighs, and runs his hand through his hair, down his neck, and under his chin. He lifts Jean's face. Jean reaches out, and peels the bandage off his cheek so he can lick his wound, whining quietly.

"Jean..." Marco smiles in dismay, "you're disgusting. It's all scabbed over-- I just threw up, for God's sake!"

"I want it to heal right," he licks him again, his chest lighter than air as he hears Marco laugh, "If I ruined even one of your perfect freckles..."

"Stop it," he ruffles Jean's hair, running both hands back and forth, "you're my Alpha, not my dog."

"Mmm," Jean continues to nuzzle, kiss and lick Marco, bathing in their bond, re-connecting every severed tie, "And you're my Omega, right?"

"Yes," he purrs, feeling content in that fact, content to let his Alpha repair while he relaxes. The fear is gone, the bad memories back in their place. All he feels is the Jean that he loves,"yes, I'm your Omega."

Jean whines again, louder, in relief as the pain of being separated quickly subsides, like a blade being drawn from his flesh. The sensation is indescribable. The cold chill melts from him as Marco fills all the gaps back in. He's whole again.

Never again. He'll never make such a stupid mistake ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like last time, I'm still totally open to requests! Certain characters, certain situations... Requests pretty much completely inspired this chapter, so they really do help!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm still floored by how well this fic is doing! You guys are all wonderful, I love your support! Please keep reading and leaving comments, I love each and every one!
> 
> This chapter and the next chapter are a little shorter than usual, but just a little bit. Then we'll have a little more action again. ;)

After their incident in his early weeks, Jean's behavior improves dramatically. They have a talk, and Jean admits that he was feeling overly protective due to Marco's past, and his instincts latched onto the thought and got out of control as he got more and more aggravated; he felt like he was jumping at every stray gust of wind, to no avail. It takes a lot of reassurance from Marco, but eventually his attitude around other Alphas returns to normal, the constant calling and texts slow down to an acceptable rate, and his concerned nagging becomes more appropriate and timely instead of annoying.

Jean secretly rejoices when Marco's wounds heal, and no scars are left behind. He doesn't want any more scars-- Marco has plenty of them already, visible or not. Sometimes he still licks his cheek as a sign that he has not forgotten his mistakes, and it becomes affectionate, easing the pain of the memory.

As soon as the morning sickness is over, and he begins to show, Marco finds himself absolutely loving being pregnant.

The first month or so is kind of boring, since he doesn't feel anything but occasionally miserable. But as soon as he hits that second month mark and gets the first sensations of fluttering down in his belly, he just about dies of happiness. His energy returns to him, his normally voracious appetite increases, and his bond with Jean becomes stronger than ever before. When they're together, all he wants to do is snuggle and play with his mate. He's not sure if it's his instincts testing Jean's nurturing abilities, or something else, but he responds beautifully. He loves to touch Marco's growing stomach, and it sends such a wonderful pulse of Omegan pleasure through him...

And speaking of pleasure, damn, did he ever want to fuck these days. It will be a long time before he has another heat, but his libido is so intense sometimes that he feels like he's having such a reaction. Jean is a little tentative about it at first, but after seeing how satisfying it is for Marco, he throws himself into it with his usual vigor, taking care not to be too rough. Sometimes it makes the baby move around, like it's rolling, but Marco keeps it to himself.

This also makes them the first of their friends to buckle down and have a family. As the only Alpha and Omega pair among them, it's understandable that they would start a little earlier than everyone else-- they have a much stronger instinct to procreate. Once it can no longer be hidden, about a month after he became pregnant, they get together with everyone to make an announcement.

Christa, the smallest among them, and the only other Omega in their group, is the most excited. She asks Marco all about how he feels, and what it's like, and he's happy to oblige while she embarrasses Ymir with how eager she is. The big Alpha Reiner, who tends to look over their whole group as his little flock, has a playful scuffle with Jean for managing to out-do him. It both gladdens and amuses Marco to see him accepting the little fight in good humor instead of freaking out.

Everyone is supportive, and the both of them can feel the bond of their pack. They assure the two that if they need anything, they can ask, and they will be there to support them. Marco is especially grateful-- who knows how difficult having their first child will be!

At about 3 months, Marco does more desk work than leg work at his job in the library. It doesn't matter that he's the biggest guy employed there, it's just how Dynamics react to pregnant Omegas-- everyone gets a little protective of him, and his superiors insist that he be given lighter tasks.

It's okay. He doesn't mind cataloging. He gets to see all the new books before they get on the shelves, and maybe get his reserve in if a patron hasn't already, and... _Oh_. Oh.

What's that? It's a lot like when he feels the baby move, but harder, not just the small, butterfly movements he's felt until now. Marco puts his work away for a second and lays a hand on his stomach as it presses insistently inside of him-- _Oh!_ Again!

There! Right there!  Something, a little hand or a little foot, it's touching his palm! Marco gasps and smiles as a warm shiver runs up his spine, and he gives a little bit of pressure back to the touch. For the first time, he feels like he's saying "hello" to his baby. It withdraws after a second, but... Oh my God, he's shaking a little! How amazing!

"You okay?" one of his co-workers asks him as she bundles by with a cart full of books, and he realizes that he's sitting there with his hand on his belly, with some kind of odd expression... He looks up and nods his head vigorously, making sure a smile is still on his face.

"Oh, yeah! Totally okay, don't worry-- _Agh,_ excuse me!"

His phone rumbles in his pocket, and he knows exactly who it is, and why. He unlocks the screen, and his co-worker rolls her eyes in amusement, going on about her own business.

Jean has sent him a message.

>> _What was that? U okay?_

Of course he would have felt that through their bond; Marco is still a little breathless himself. He's actually glad for the text-- It saves him the trouble of starting the conversation himself!

>> _Yeah! I'm fine! I felt the baby kick! :D_

Barely a minute passes before Jean responds.

>> _Not fair! When I'm not there..._

Marco grins. Of course he would have liked Jean to be there, but he's the one that's pregnant! Getting first dibs is his privilege here.

>> _Sorry! I don't know what did it but maybe it will again later? I can't wait to see you!_

>> _Same! I'm running home as soon as the whistle blows!_

\--

Marco gets off of work about an hour before Jean does. The winter has turned bitingly cold, and it makes him appreciate his cozy apartment even more than usual. He walks in with a sigh of relief, takes off his coat and scarf, and puts a kettle on the boil before going to his bedroom to change into some warm houseclothes. Ever since he started getting heavier, he began to care less about looking clean cut and care more about being comfortable. These days, not much feels as good as lounging on his couch with a hot cup of tea...

It would be even better if Jean was here. Remembering what happened this afternoon, he wraps himself up in a blanket and rolls around in glee, talking to himself and his baby.

"Move again! You gotta kick again, okay? Not now, but when Jean gets back, so he can feel too!"

Pretty soon, he's helplessly tangled in his blanket, red faced and hair all askew. The feeling of being cocooned is wonderful. He just needs his mate...

Jean practically busts down the door, nearly tripping and falling into their apartment in his over-eager rush to his mate's side. Marco laughs.

"Jean! Jean, come here!"

Marco struggles to free his arms from his blanket, so he can reach out for an embrace. Jean jumps out of his coat and shoes and tackles him, pinning him to the couch, running his hands all over his body and burying his face in his neck.. Marco hums happily and runs his fingernails up and down Jean's back in return.

"Marco... I've been dying to see you all day."

"I can tell," he smiles, and moans as Jean nips at his neck, "were you really able to feel it? When I..."

"Just that you were really, really emotional about something," he keeps trailing kisses up his face, "I'm glad it was something happy."

"Oh, yeah-- Jean, it was amazing! I put my hand on my stomach, and we touched!"

"Really?"

Marco nods, and Jean sits up, pulling his Omega up with him.

"Where?"

Jean holds his hand out, and Marco takes it, guiding him to the right spot on his belly. He hasn't felt it kick again since it did for the first time this afternoon, but... Jean's entire being is so intense with concentration, he just can't ruin the moment by telling him that lightning isn't going to strike twice. Instead, he leans his head against his Alpha's shoulder and purrs gently.

"...It won't be very long before I can feel it move like that all the time."

"Tell me when it does," Jean croons to him, "don't keep anything to yourself. I want to know about it all. I want to touch our baby too."

Hearing such declarations of committed love from his mate fills Marco with pleasurable Omegan feelings, and he mewls in response. But he can't help but smile mischievously as he thinks about what Jean really said.

"You're going to regret that. There are going to be nights where it keeps me up... And then you're going to be up too."

"Fuck sleep. I don't need to sleep," Jean smiles right back, and runs his hands all over Marco's belly. It tickles, and he laughs, "I'll just walk around in a daze all day. I don't care."

"I guess it'll be good experience for when it's actually born, huh?"

"Yeah. We'll both be masters at running on four hours of sleep."

It feels like such a distant thought, but it will only be another 3 months. Marco watches in silent appreciation as Jean makes himself a mug of cocoa with the still-hot kettle. _He'll make such a good father,_ he thinks for the first time, and smiles.

\--

That weekend, Jean says that he isn't feeling well, and stays in bed. His voice is a little husky, so Marco assumes he has a cold or something similar. Alphas get over little infections quickly, so he doesn't worry overmuch... He'd like to smother his mate with care and affection, but right now it's probably best that he maintain his distance in case whatever he has is contagious. Whatever it is, it will hit Marco three times as hard, and he won't be able to take any medicine or antibiotics for it. So he settles for knocking on the door or peeking in occasionally to make sure Jean is okay.

Something doesn't seem right, but he's not sure what to do.

They need a few staples to fill their fridge and cabinets, so Marco goes out shopping alone. On the way home, he stops by a restaurant they frequent to get some of Jean's favorite soup. At least he'll be able to make up for the fact that he can't baby him as usual with a little thoughtful gesture...

The wrong-feeling becomes much stronger when he returns home. It's not as though there's an emergency, but there's a tangy scent in the air, and a faint, begging pull towards his mate. Marco sets everything down and heads for their bedroom. The door is locked.

"Jean?"

When he says his name, the tug on their bond is tangible. He is very badly wanted. But if that's the case, why has Jean locked him out? Marco jiggles the knob a little more in frustration, and a cloying smell hits him, seeping out from underneath the door. Suddenly, he recognizes it.

"Jean-- Jean, are you in _rut?_ "

He hears a low moan, and his own spine rolls. He kneels down carefully, and sits, leaning his side against the door.

"It's okay, Jean. Let me in. You just need to get a knot out of you, you'll feel much better..."

"...I can't," Jean says after a long pause, needing that much time just to gather himself to speak, "I can't, Marco, it's too rough. I don't want to hurt you... Just let me ride it out in here."

 _Oh, Jean._ Marco sighs, and runs his fingers down the grain of the door. It's true that an Alpha can lose themselves to their base instincts and think of nothing but a good fuck when having a rut, but it's not the same as being a helpless Omega in heat either. He's already showing incredible restraint by locking himself away instead of jumping Marco's bones, which he is totally capable of if he really wants it.

"I'm not afraid of you. You've never hurt me before."

"But you're pregnant..."

And that's the crux of it. Marco runs his hand over his stomach. He closes his eyes, and ponders the situation, letting Jean's smell surround him, and listens closely to his instincts. After a few minutes, he still doesn't feel any danger, to himself or to their child. He takes a deep breath.

"You've never hurt me, and you _definitely_ would never hurt the baby. So please, let me in. I don't want you to suffer in there alone when you don't have to."

There's a long stretch of silence, but Marco waits patiently. He knows it can be tough to think straight with all those hormones clogging your brain.

"...You can come in. Just-- use the key."

All the locks in the apartment disengage with a simple hole latch. The "key" was a long metal skewer meant for roasting meats on. You push it in until you feel the lock snap back... there.

Marco opens the door and is hit with waves of an acrid smell, like cum and sweat and Alpha all mixed together. Jean isn't on the bed, but huddled in the corner furthest from the door. Despite only being covered by a thin sheet in the middle of winter, his face is flushed red and he's panting softly for breath.

"Jean..."

He takes a step to approach his mate, but Jean shakes his head and whines, hunching in on himself a little tighter.

"Okay, okay. I'm just going to... lay on the bed. Alright?"

Jean nods quickly, and Marco slowly walks towards the bed instead. He gets on, props some pillows behind him, and gets comfortable sitting and waiting.

What happens next can only be described as a battle of scents. Jean has already filled the room with his, and it's only natural that Marco respond. Like _fuck me_ to _I need someone to fuck._ But as soon as Jean catches a whiff of Marco, he panics, and tries to flush it out. This only works so well, as his scent riles Marco up even more. After a good ten minutes of their stand off, Marco's solicitory scent is so wholly overpowering that Jean feels like he's not controlling his legs anymore, they're just moving on their own as he stands up and takes laborious steps towards the bed, following the sound of his mate's encouraging murmuring.

"That's right. Come here. Don't worry."

He climbs up with his mate, and the sheet that was covering him falls off his hips. Marco is surprised to see him completely naked underneath. But when he sees Jean's erection, red, full mast and hard as a rock, pre-cum already dribbling a line down to his balls, he can understand why he wouldn't want anything brushing against him. Light, teasing touches would only be torturous when you're that aroused.

As soon as he's close enough, Jean crushes their mouths together in a kiss, fierce and dominating. This close up, Marco can see how dilated his pupils are. He's definitely in Alpha mode. Yet he still doesn't feel any apprehension. When they break, he hums, and shows his neck to Jean. He eagerly nips and licks at his scent gland...

An unusual feeling takes a hold of him. Jean moans in quiet relief as a cooling sensation washes over him in waves. He's still very much erect, but he feels more like himself. Less frantic, less controlled by the insatiable need to knot. He relaxes against Marco, each breath of his wonderful scent like a splash of water to his face.

"Jean?" Marco scratches at the hairs at the nape of his neck, and he groans in gratitude.

"You were right. I should have let you in earlier," he licks his neck again, and Marco sighs in pleasure, "there’s something about your scent. It's really calming."

"We're bonded, stupid," Marco kisses his forehead, "calming you down is my job."

"I know, it's just... I think it's because you're pregnant."

Ah. That makes sense. An Alpha going into rut with a pregnant mate is somewhat counter-productive, since the goal of it is to find and claim an Omega. Their instincts aren't meant to encourage philandering. A pregnant Omega must need to have other ways of satisfying their mate. Evening out their hormones with a few of their own works just as well.

"See? I knew it'd be okay for me to come in here."

"Yeah," Jean admits, and sits back up. He glances down at his turgid cock, somewhat cross, "still have to deal with this shit though. Lemme just, go beat it out..."

"Hey, no," Marco locks his arms around Jean's shoulders, preventing his escape, "you can't leave me hanging like this either! Just looking at that's gotten me so hard!"

"Seriously?" Jean raises one of his eyebrows, and Marco nods, licking his lips, "You're just... I swear you've never been so hot for it before. You should be pregnant more often."

"Mmm, it's been awhile," he nuzzles Jean's cheek, "and it's going to take some time before I have another heat. I want your knot..."

Jean can't help but growl possessively, and Marco purrs back. They make quick work of taking off his clothes, pausing only for quick, vicious little nips and kisses. He turns around to present his ass to his Alpha, sitting on his knees and leaning against the headboard of their bed. They find this to be the most comfortable way to have sex after he started to get round. Jean grabs his healthy butt with both hands, digging his fingers into the soft flesh and trailing kisses up his spine. Marco laughs and sighs at the same time.

"Come on, Jean! Don't be weird!"

"Hey, if I can take my time, I'm gonna take my time!"

He continues to peck feather light kisses all over the freckles spotting Marco's shoulders, while he uses another hand to paw for his nightstand, opening it and fishing for condoms and lube. Jean opens one, rolls it over his fingers, and coats it with the oil. Marco raises his ass a little higher in anticipation. Jean slides one digit in, and Marco shivers.

"That okay?"

"Yeah, just-- damn, that lube is cold! Winter, man."

Jean snickers a bit.

"Sorry, didn't really have the patience to warm it up."

"Don't worry, me neither."

Marco sits back against Jean's finger, showing that he's ready for more. He slides another in, meeting little resistance, and starts to scissor out. Marco moans and grips the headboard tighter. It's part of an Omega's physiology to want to be filled and stretched, and it turns on his own arousal, body responding for sex. Jean digs his middle finger down to the knuckle, touching the prostate, and Marco feels his dick twitch in pleasure.

Normally, he would begin begging for it now. But he knows if he's going to take a knot out of heat, he's going to need excessive preparation. Marco takes deep, panting breaths and tries to control himself as Jean continues to pry him apart, growing more sensitive by the second. A free hand kneads at his neck to keep him calm for as long as possible.

"...Okay," Jean withdraws, and Marco mewls unhappily at the loss of pressure. He tosses the condom off his fingers and repositions himself to press his still-hard cock against Marco's entrance. His voice is straining "I... can't really takes this anymore, so..."

"It's fine, please," he pants, "you've done enough. Please, just fuck me..."

Jean nods, and crosses his arms tightly around Marco's chest, pulling him back to sink onto him. He lets out the most delightful sound as he's finally filled, twisting down until he's balls deep on Jean's lap. He hisses at the sudden, warm, complete envelopment. As they both get used to each other, Jean takes one hand to pump Marco's dick. The Omega slowly rolls his neck back in thanks, and Jean licks his scent gland.

Once comfortable, the two set up a rhythm. Marco sits back up on his knees and Jean goes with him. One leans forward and the other leans back, and then snap back into position. The lube in his ass squelches, and the clap of flesh on flesh is loud and clear. Jean's length slowly engorges, and Marco's whole body rejoices at being stretched to the brim by his Alpha. He lets out, long, high keens as Jean growls and nips at him, goading him to go deeper, thrust harder.

Soon, he becomes so thick that they lock together. It's difficult without the lubrication and intense arousal of his heat, but Marco continues to pump back and forth as best he can. Jean takes on much of the work himself, lifting Marco by the thighs and sinking in deeper, using his strength as an Alpha to hold his mate up entirely.

Just as soon as Marco in convinced he can't move another centimeter, that the pleasure can't get any more intense, Jean grunts low and hard, and his knot releases. The feeling of wet hotness spreading inside of him is enough to push Marco over the edge. He comes too, in thick strands onto the bed, and slumps forward in exhaustion. Jean catches him before he can tug at their knot.

Yes. That's what he wanted. That warm, fuzzy feeling of being connected-- His heart swells, so happy to be so close...

Oh. _Oh!_

"Jean-- Jean!" he tries to take one of the hands around his chest, holding him up. Jean is resting against Marco's shoulder in a haze of afterglow, but looks up when his Omega calls for him so frantically.

"Here, move your hand right over... here!" Marco draws his palm over his belly to where he feels the baby kicking, a soft tapping against his skin.

Jean sits up at full attention as soon as he understands what's going on. Gently-- oh so gently, he presses against Marco's stomach, and he feels a little pressure back!

"Oh my God..." he murmurs, and Marco feels the connection forming between his baby and his mate. His Alpha croons, and he purrs. A smile cracks his face.

"It always moves when we have sex."

He ruins the moment so perfectly. The look on Jean's face is absolutely priceless. He can't help but laugh.

"Ugh, Marco!" Jean whines, although he doesn't move his hand, "I didn't need to know that! What if we're doing something wrong? What if it feels it?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it does," he shrugs, and pats his belly.

Jean is mortified. The mortification is made even worse by the fact that they're still tied to together in knot.

"Fucking... We're raising a nympho right out of the womb. This is terrible."

"Please don't stop having sex with me, Jean!"

He puts on a dramatic whine, and Jean rolls his eyes.

"I'm going to have to re-evaluate my priorities here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like last time, I'm still totally open to requests! Certain characters, certain situations... Requests pretty much completely inspired this chapter, so they really do help!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really have anything to say today! Just thank you for reading, your support and suggestions, and enjoy! :3

"Seriously Eren, I owe you one..."

The two of them walk through the halls of the Recon Corp's headquarters, heading to Eren's apartment. Jean is a respectful distance behind, slightly slouched, hands shoved in his pockets.

"Cut it out!" Eren hisses back at him, "I've told you it's okay like, a million times! Besides, Armin and Marco are friends. He feels like this is helping him out. Sort of."

 It's not as though he hasn't been here or hasn't seen Eren since they had their fight-- or more accurately, he had his temper tantrum-- but he was alone this time. No Marco to field for him. He has to maintain decorum on his own, which he admits he isn't good at. He'd rather go too far showing his deference than cross a line somewhere on accident.

"He's definitely happy about it," Jean rubs the back of his neck, "he's been reading books and stuff, or talking to his folks to get ready, but that's just not how I learn."

"Me neither," they turn a corner together, "I don't get books at all."

 _That's because you're dumb as a pile of bricks_ , Jean has to hold back. But somehow, Eren manages. He's got his whole weird family all happy and situated, and Jean can't help but hold some admiration for that. It's why he chose to come here to try and get a little parenting experience.

"Come on in. The twins are always up this time of day."

Everything's the same as he remembers it (including the smell) except for the twins. Kids grow up _fast_. Last time he saw them, they were just crawling around. Now one of them is unsteadily walking his way towards Eren with his arms up above his head, making a grabbing motion with his hands.

"Hi Morgan!" Eren's usual disposition changes dramatically, as well as his tone of voice, as soon as he sees his son. He picks him up in one fell swoop, swinging him up in the air before settling him on his hip. The baby giggles all the while, and hugs his father tightly.

"Welcome home," Armin approaches with Flynn on his hip too. Unlike his brother, he's very aware of Jean's presence. He looks at this stranger in his midst appraisingly for a few seconds, then hides his face in Armin's shoulder, "and it's nice to see you too, Jean. Marco told me you'd be coming."

"Uh, yeah... Thanks for having me," he nods his head a little lower than usual, "I figured if anyone could teach me anything, it'd be you guys."

"Well, we'll see what we can do," Armin gives him a small smile, and ushers him into the living room. He sits on the couch, and Flynn sits on his lap, who's still unsure of this whole situation. Eren and Morgan sit on the floor, and the baby proceeds to use him as a human jungle gym. Although the twins are completely identical-- they're even wearing the same clothes, and have the same haircut-- it's easy to tell who's who by personality alone. Jean decides to sit on the floor with Eren, since Morgan is obviously the more outgoing of the two babies.

"Oh man, get ready," Eren laughs, as Morgan tries to clamber over his shoulder, "As soon as he notices you..."

"Huh?"

Morgan turns his head. All it takes is a second of eye contact with Jean for him to toddle on over and try to climb into his lap. He's very... grabby. Jean has no idea what the baby wants or what he's supposed to do, and as he's not being a whole lot of fun, Morgan makes loud, frustrated noises, trying to find Jean's arms and hands. He panics when the little guy starts trying to climb for his shoulder.

"Ah, hey, don't--you're gonna fall!"

Eren is _really_ laughing at him now. Jean wants to give him a good sock in the face for that shit-eating grin of his.

"He's not gonna fall. We wrestle all the time. He knows better."

"Wrestle?" can you wrestle with babies? Morgan plants a hand on Jean's face like he's going to use it as a hold for rock climbing.

"Yeah! Geez, you really do suck at this... Can't you tell he's trying to play with you?"

"Sh-shut up! I get it!"

Play, right. That's what kids do, isn't it? Uh... Jean gives a fake cry of defeat, and falls to his back. Morgan starts to giggle again, like he was with Eren a few minutes ago. He hugs Jean around the neck in his attempt to pin him down. Jean gives the baby's sides a cursory tickle, and is rewarded with more laughter.

"There, see? No big deal. Morgan's really easy."

"When he's not getting into trouble," Armin adds with a sigh, "he's a little _too_ brave. He likes to test his boundaries."

The baby pleases himself crawling all over Jean in victory for a few minutes before returning to Eren for some real playtime. Jean sits up and straightens out his clothing. Well, that wasn't too awful for a first test. It looks like he passed.

"Come here," Armin beckons, patting the couch beside him. Jean is extra careful to give the Omega a healthy personal bubble, showing that he still knows his place. Flynn burrows into Armin's side like he's trying to become invisible. He just smiles, and strokes Flynn’s hair, whispering to him.

"Don't be shy. This is Jean. He's Marco's mate. You like Marco a lot, remember? The big man with lots of freckles, who has a baby in his belly."

Flynn burbles an attempt at saying 'freckles'. He peeks out at Jean, and Armin scoots closer to him on the couch. The shy baby needs a lot of quiet reassurance, but eventually is convinced to sit on Jean's lap. It's a completely different experience from his little play fight with Morgan. All Flynn wants to do is look around and take in his surroundings. It's actually a little scarier; he doesn't want to startle or frighten him...

"It's okay," Armin pats Jean's knee, "he'll get used to you in a moment. Then he'll probably snuggle up."

Just as he says, Flynn begins to suck on his own fingers contemplatively, and it calms him down. He leans his head on Jean's chest, and takes a little bit of his shirt in his other tiny fist. Jean rubs his back, and the baby blinks gently, sleepily.

"...For twins, they're completely different."

"They are, aren't they?" Armin smiles at him, and reaches out to re-arrange a little bit of Flynn's hair, "even when they were just born, I've always been able to tell them apart. Morgan was the loudest from day one."

"What was that like?" Jean asks, and then remembers all the traumatic shit they've gone through-- it's so easy to forget, when they're happy and in the moment, "I mean, when they're just born..."

Armin continues on. He understands, and leaves it be.

"They're just... helpless," he closes his eyes, thinking, "I had a cat when I was a child, and it had kittens. After just a few hours, they could crawl around and nurse all on their own. They were weak, but they could manage."

"Compared to that, human babies pathetic," he laughs a little, "They can't even lift their heads, or control their limbs. They can accidentally scratch their eyes with their fingernails; that's why they have to be swaddled, or wear mittens-- it's quite silly."

"But I think it's that... pathetic nature that makes us love them so much. When they were born, they suddenly became everything. Literally everything. I became helpless to them in turn, and there was nothing I could do about it. I was there to give their every want, and soothe their every cry, and I did it with gladness. All I wanted was them to have what little comfort and happiness they could know..."

Armin can see that he's overwhelming Jean, sitting wide-eyed with Flynn dozing against him, and reels back just a bit.

"They eat, and they sleep, and they cry. Often for no discernible reason. They're a full time job, and they _need_ you. Don't be afraid to give them anything, especially your love. I don't think there's anything that you can do wrong, as long as you're there. For them and for Marco."

Eren's looking up at Armin with an odd expression, who looks at him with equal chagrin, and shakes his head.

"You'll be fine, Jean. You're doing a good job. Just keep trying."

Jean doesn't exactly feel like he's doing the best job sometimes, but he nods anyways. Flynn is nearly asleep against him. Armin gives an encouraging gesture.

"Go ahead, give him a cuddle. He still likes to be, well, babied."

Hesitantly, since the child already seems quite happy where he is, Jean picks up Flynn, under the arms and then up to rest against his shoulder. He has one arm under the baby for support, and the other holding his back. Flynn coos, and puts his face into his neck. He's bigger and heavier than a newborn will be, obviously, but the motion is probably the same. It feels surprisingly good, both to have some practice, and in anticipation of the child that will soon be his. Jean leans in to touch his cheek to the top of Flynn's head.

"See? You're a natural. You'll need to support a newborn's head too, but otherwise that's very good."

"Uh, yeah," he lifts his head, kind of embarrassed-- a few more seconds relaxing like that and he might start crooning, "thanks. I was actually wondering; don't you guys have a younger one too? The girl?"

Jean thinks that having some time with her might better prepare him, but... Armin and Eren both exchange a laugh.

"Celeste?" Eren snickers, "Levi doesn't let anyone touch her, especially not _you_. When he heard we were going to do this, he said he was going to his office for the day and took her with him."

"Wow," Jean says flatly, "thanks for the vote of confidence, Levi."

"You're fine, Jean," Armin waves his hand, "that's just how he is. He's very protective of her... She's his little girl. Instead, why don't I run you through our evening routine? It should prove very educational."

\--

The rest of his time with the twins is exhausting. Feeding, changing diapers, bathing them and putting on their night clothes... It's all a huge to-do. Jean is grateful for the experience, but even though the twins go to bed at 7, he feels like he's ready to go to sleep then too. But he has to make dinner for Marco and himself first. Then maybe he can hit the hay early.

He returns to find that their apartment has been turned completely upside-down. All the furniture is askew, pressed together in the corner of the room, missing cushions, books on the floor... Have they been ransacked? Marco was supposed to be home all day-- Oh God, how did he not feel this? Jean rushes in without taking off his shoes or jacket, his heart pounding as adrenaline courses through his veins.

"Marco! Marco, where are you? Are you okay!? _Please_ say you're o--"

He turns the corner to their room.

"kay...?"

In the darkness of their unlit bedroom is a fort the likes of which has never even conceived has been erected on top of their bed. Every couch-cushion, throw pillow and blanket in their humble home must have been used in its construction. In the midst of it all is Marco, his back facing the door, curled up tight. It's so huge, ponderous and lacking in architectural logic that it's hard to tell person from fort...

Jean flicks the light on, and he hears a deep, unhappy rumble. Marco throws him a dirty look from over his shoulder, then turns back and heaves a dramatic sigh.

"Shit, Marco," he puts a hand over his chest to try and calm his palpitations, "I thought we'd been robbed! Don't scare me like that..."

Feeling Jean's genuine distress softens Marco's sour mood. A little. He lifts the blanket behind him, offering room for his mate to shimmy in. Jean shakes his head in honest amusement, takes off his shoes and drops his coat where he's standing so he can join him. He has to admit, the fort is pleasantly cozy.

"You okay?" he asks quietly, running his hands up and down Marco's back, "You've never, uh, built hives to vent frustrations before."

"...I'm nesting," Marco mumbles lowly, like he's embarrassed to admit it, and Jean can barely hear him.

"You're what?"

"I'm nesting, okay?" he groans, "it's... it's when someone expecting gets the urge to _fix_ stuff, make everything ready for a baby, and-- I wanted a nap, but no matter where I laid down, I wasn't comfortable! It was driving me crazy! I just started piling everything up here, and..."

"...That's a thing that happens?"

Marco shoots him the most venomous glance, and he tries rather unsuccessfully to hold his laughter in

"Yes Jean. That is a thing that happens."

"Whoa there tiger," Jean kneads at his neck, and Marco makes a noise in strangled relief, "It's okay. What do you need? Can I help?"

"We have to go baby shopping. Before I go nuts."

"Sure thing. We'll go tomorrow, alright? Then I'll fix everything in the spare room however you like it this weekend, promise."

"...Thank you. That sounds great..."

Marco sighs like the weight of all the world has been lifted off his shoulders, looking back at Jean in gratitude this time. They share a short kiss, and he burrows back into his pillows with a purr. Jean is inclined to do nothing more than the same.

"You mind if we have dinner a little bit later?"

Marco shakes his head. Jean spoons close to his back and wraps his arms around his ample middle. He’s nearly five months pregnant.

\--

Braving the baby store is quite frankly embarrassing for the Alpha. He perfectly understands the nature of the event, bringing a new little life into the world, but does everything have to be so... adorable? And there's a particular unnatural, perfumed scent in the air that's permeating into all of his senses, cloying and sweet, and he can't say he's very fond of it.

Marco however, might as well have died and gone to heaven. He loves everything he can get his hands on, the smaller and cuter the better. Jean has to constantly remind him that they're on a budget, and they can't take the whole freaking store home with them-- and occasionally ruin his revelry with a little well-put and unwelcome sense-- how could anyone possibly need shoes that small? It's not like a baby that size is going to be walking anywhere.

So Marco doesn't mind clocking him over the head when he's being a wet blanket, reminding him that his Omega is still a fully grown man, if a bit awkwardly heavy at the moment.

There's lots of gender-specific merchandise for older babies. They're able to get everything they need in a neutral palette, but the selection still sets Jean wondering. He's only ever played with Eren and Armin's twins, so he finds himself wanting a boy. Wrestling with Morgan was kind of fun. When he voices his opinion to Marco, he learns that his mate wants a girl. He think it'll be cute, he says, to see his Alpha with a little girl. Maybe he'll stop being such a hardass about appearing tough.

The biggest purchases take the longest to decide on. Marco is incredibly fussy about what kind of crib and furniture he wants. He's already done research on all the different brands and models or strollers and car-seats. Jean just takes a step back and lets it all happen, only interjecting on matters of price and the size of their spare room. He's never had much of an eye for design, and Marco's the one nesting, not him. As long as it's nothing he doesn't mind having to look at every day for the next couple years, it's fine.

Just when he thinks they're all done, and everything on the list has been checked off, Marco is diverted by a final piece of furniture. It's a large, concave cushion, just about big enough for two people to squeeze in on, held up by a sturdy wooden frame. Jean thinks he's seen smaller ones with a wicker frame-- maybe called a papasan? But before he can react, Marco just about collapses into it, setting up a loud purr and declaring that he cannot live without it, that he absolutely _must_ have it, and Jean can barely get him out of it long enough to make a purchase. When they get home that day he insists that Jean set it up first. Once it's ready in the living room, Marco promptly falls asleep curled up in its fluffy depths. Jean covers him with a blanket and leaves him there; he does not wake up until the next day.

The weekend comes, and Jean is set to work.

Their spare room is a dumping ground for all their various things. Marco's older books, as well as books from college are packed up in stacked boxes. Set up catawampus in a corner is a desk set up that he used to study at, but hasn't in some time since graduating. There's also a punching bag that Jean hung, and a set of weights that he does still use, but... well, he's not going to have much time for any of these things soon anyways. He'll just have to go to the gym if he wants to work out some pent up frustration.

He rents a truck and loads all the stuff up in it. Marco watches guiltily from his current love affair (the chair) as he bustles in and out of the apartment. He's a strong Omega, and would normally be able to help out with this kind of thing, but right now he has no business doing any heavy lifting. He calls after Jean occasionally to make sure he has everything handled, but is regularly dismissed. There's nothing for him to do but pout and read.

Once the room is entirely cleared, Jean transfers all the stuff they're keeping to a storage facility, and takes the rest to goodwill. One day they'll get a bigger place, but Marco doesn't need to deal with that kind of stress right now. The spare room will do for the baby until then.

About an hour into painting, a light green color that they both agreed on, Jean wants a cigarette. He puts everything down for now, and heads out. Now, he leaves their apartment and exits the building entirely if he needs a smoke. He doesn't want Marco inhaling anything secondhand from him in his current condition.

But as he passes through the living room, he sees Marco lying there, and he just...

"I can't!" Jean declares, throwing his arms in the air in defeat. Marco is startled out of his doze, and looks up.

"What?"

"I can't. I just can't do it anymore."

Marco's expression melts into one of extreme worry, and Jean instantly regrets his choice of words.

"No, no, not like that. It's okay," he shakes his head, "I just... I'll be back in like, fifteen minutes, alright?"

Marco still doesn't look entirely convinced, but nods. Jean heads out at a brisk pace. Just as he promised, he's back in a relatively short amount of time. With a box of something, and an absolutely gigantic bag of... tiny lollipops?

"Jean, what in the world..." Marco heaves himself out of his chair, too curious to lie idly by.

"I can't smoke anymore," Jean mumbles, and sits down on the couch, turning the box over in his hands. They're nicotine patches, "I'm done. I can't smoke when we have a baby."

"Oh, Jean," Marco sits next to him and smiles warmly. He's already been putting a freaking mile between himself and the baby when he smokes these days, but this sentiment is greatly appreciated, "thank you. Can I help any?"

"Figure out how these work?" he hands Marco the box, and he starts to read the label, "in the meantime..."

Jean opens the huge bag of candy with his pocket knife. He unwraps one, and begins to play with it in his mouth.

"...Not exactly the same, but it'll have to do."

"You and your oral fixation," Marco sighs in amusement, and Jean sticks out his tongue, lollipop and all at him. He examines the wrapper he left on the couch, "'Mystery Flavor'?"

"I figured it'll be more fun if I don't know what I'm getting into. But if I taste anything butterscotch, I'm spitting it out."

Marco laughs. Eventually, they both figure out the patches, and Marco puts one on Jean's upper arm for him. Jean has no idea what kind of pseudoscience magic is going on that's supposed to make him stop craving cigarettes, but he doesn't question it. He gets back to work.

It takes all day to finish the painting, and let it dry properly. Marco can finally help again as they both try to puzzle out assembling the furniture, as he's infinitely better at reading instructions. Without him, Jean would probably assemble the crib backwards, or upside-down. They put everything together, and decide how to arrange everything in the room, then store away all the clothes, toys and essentials they bought where they're supposed to be... Then Marco gives a fond farewell to his chair in the living room as Jean moves it into the baby's room, where it was meant to be in the first place.

It's done. Everything is in place. Marco thanks him profusely, hugging and kissing and cuddling his wonderful Alpha, telling him that he feels much, much better now. Even Jean can't help but feel relief to see that they're ready. Just recently he would have told you that he didn't think he was, but now... Maybe he is.

\--

The small hours of the night roll by, and Marco still can't sleep.

It's his last week now. He's already been on maternity leave for a little while. Technically, he could go into labor any day now.  But the baby is still kicking and flipping about as gleefully as ever... He groans, and makes the great effort of sitting up, rubbing his huge belly in an attempt to placate his hyperactive child.

He can't even turn over nowadays without alerting Jean. His Alpha is wide awake in moments, watching him carefully in the darkness of their bedroom.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah..." he yawns widely, scratching his side, "can't sleep. The baby won't settle down."

Jean nods, sitting up and stretching out with enviable ease. Marco eagerly awaits the day he's able to move around without impediment again. He scoots himself over to the edge of the bed, and in the time he's only just able to throw his legs over the side, Jean is already standing in front of him, giving him his arms to help him up.

"You good?" Jean asks, holding him until he has his balance back. Marco nods, and he goes on ahead, "I'll make some tea."

On his way down the hall, Marco glances into the nursery, still pristine and untouched. It excites him, and calms his nerves at the same time. He can hear a gentle rain patter on their balcony, one of the very first of spring, as he settles down on the couch in the living room. He closes his eyes, and soon, and warm mug is pressed into his hands, and a blanket covers his body. Jean sits down too, fitting tightly against him. Marco can smell his cocoa from where he's left it on the end table.

"Gotta enjoy this. Might be our last day," Jean remarks quietly.

"Mmm. We've had a lot of good days, haven't we?"

"Plenty. Feels like our whole damn lives..."

"That's what happens when you're mates with your best friend."

Jean kisses his cheek. Marco takes a long sip of his tea, and sets it aside to lean into Jean's arms. They kiss properly, long and slow, tasting the corners of each other's mouths. Jean smoothes down Marco's hair with a free hand, and he begins to purr. He takes in the ambient sounds, the quiet of the room. This luxury might not be theirs again for a very long time.

"...Let's never stop having good days, okay?"

"Of course not."

As if protesting being left out, the baby begins to move again. Marco smiles, and guides Jean's hand to the spot. The way he begins to croon to his child instantly is almost too much for his heart to bear.

"Hey, you gotta cut your dad here some slack," he addresses Marco's belly quietly, "you're gonna be born soon, and he needs his strength for that. It's not easy work. So let him sleep, okay?"

Jean receives a good sharp kick to his palm, and the both of them laugh.

"Rebellious little shit!"

"The last thing I need is a child with your attitude..."

Marco rests his head on Jean's shoulder, growing more and more drowsy as Jean rubs his stomach and talks to their baby. The room becomes grey with early morning light, filtered in by fluffy rainclouds, and he falls asleep, warm in his Alpha's arms.

Only a few more days...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: We have a baby!
> 
> Along with suggestions as normal, I would also like to ask you all what gender you would like the baby to be, and if you have any names to suggest! I have no clue about names, it's just not something that comes to me, so it'd be a big help. Please leave a comment with your thoughts! And please don't be offended if I don't respond to you all-- I just don't want to inflate the comment count too much.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I began to write this chapter, and could tell that it was going to end up being really fucking long if I didn't pace myself. So instead of writing one giant fucking gigachapter, you're getting this one in two chunks. Enjoy!

Jean hates leaving Marco now. Every day it gets a little bit harder to bid him farewell in the morning, when he knows-- they both know that it's only a matter of his body deciding that it's time. Whenever that is, the Alpha _has_  to be there. Marco tells him that it's fine, that when he needs him, he'll know, so he shouldn't worry about it. It's the one thing that all the books he's read seem to agree on.

When it happens, Jean realizes why.

It's like a major league baseball player winds up and swings directly at his chest. He can't breathe. His vision focuses into a tunnel. _Go!_ The word is practically audible. _Go, go go!_ He drops what he's doing, ignores every shout thrown his way, and sprints out of the warehouse like death itself is snapping at his heels. Fuck work, fuck his boss; he can deal with repercussions later. Right now he has to be with Marco! He's needed!

The whole world is too slow for him right now. Traffic lights, the cars in front of him, pedestrians... By some God-given miracle he manages to drive home without causing any casualties. Even then he nearly wrenches the automatic sliding doors to their apartment building open with his bare hands, and he has no patience for the elevator, instead running up the stair well three steps at a time. He drops his keys while he fumbles for the correct one for their door, and just about kicks it down out of frustration. He shakes his head and smacks his cheeks, calming himself down enough not to cause permanent damage to his own property.

"Marco! _Marco!_ "

"Jean..."

He's in the nursery, lying in his favorite chair and cocooned by a thick blanket. He raises his head as Jean stands in the doorway, and smiles. He doesn't seem to be in pain at all. If anything, he looks a little dozy. But that doesn't stop Jean from nearly attacking him with a full-body check, getting under there and running his hands over whatever they can reach, taking deep breaths of his scent. Marco laughs softly.

"It's okay, Jean... It's okay! Calm down, I'm fine."

"But I felt it!" he almost whines, "I totally felt it. It was nuts, just like you said it'd be."

"Mmm," Marco hums, and lifts his blanket in invitation. Jean reluctantly obeys, settling down behind him, "I've had a contraction. _A_ contraction. Singular. I wasn't even sure if it was the real thing, it wasn't that painful. But you've shown up, so..."

"You smell different too," Jean sniffs the back of his neck again, even going so far as to give his scent gland a little lick to make sure, "I think it's for real."

Marco takes a breath, long and steady. Jean begins to croon, and it soothes his nerves.

"...It's been a long time since then. If they're still this far apart, it's going to be awhile. The doctor said I should try and sleep as much as I can, before the real pain starts-- ah!"

As if on cue, Marco gives a quiet cry and presses a hand to the small of his back. Immediately concerned, but unsure of what to do, Jean puts his hands there too. But it only lasts a few seconds. When the sensation fades, he lets out a sigh, and relaxes again.

"Was that it?"

"Yeah. Like I said, it doesn't hurt that bad. And..." he looks to a clock in the room, "it's been nearly 45 minutes since the first one. I could probably still snag a few hours of sleep, before we go to the hospital."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Marco looks back, and chuckles at Jean's pale face. Looks like he's going to need some time to come into his element. He stretches to kiss his nose, and settles back down.

"Be my Alpha. You're the only one that can, after all."

"Right... Right."

A set of strong arms curl firmly around his chest, and he can feel the vibrations of Jean rumbling behind him. It helps him nap until his time grows closer.

\--

Marco gets nearly 4 hours of sleep, only vaguely interrupted. The contractions are painful, but they're short lived, and the aching doesn't linger. Jean dutifully kneads at his back whenever he gets one, and it's enough to keep them at bay. They steadily get closer and closer...

When they're about 20 minutes apart, something changes. The pain moves from a strong cramp to a knifelike stabbing. It's hot and angry and Marco isn't entirely ready for it. He gasps, and swallows a scream, covering his mouth and writhing in place.

"Marco?"

When he opens his eyes, he sees that Jean has propped himself up to hover over him. He nods.

"We need to go."

Jean takes over. He gathers their bags, and leads Marco out, letting him lean on his shoulder as hard as he wants. Now the elevator is okay. He doesn't even want to drive that fast, afraid that he'll jostle him-- until he has another contraction in the car. If Marco were driving, he would have slammed the pedal to the floor. For once, the hospital is a welcome sight.

The staff there knows about Marco. While they try to keep a schedule of all births, male Omegas are a bit rarer than the rest. Especially one of Marcos... Well, size. Most Omegas, and even fertile Betas are small, and the birthing suites are equipped to reflect that. They have to make some last-minute adjustments to his room to accommodate him.

"...That is one big-ass bed."

Seriously, it's probably big enough to fit the both of them. Jean whistles lowly.

"Yes, it's actually meant for our largest Alpha patients. We figured it would be best to overshoot," Marco's nurse explains. Her name is Nifa, a Beta female. She guides him over to sit down, and he does so gingerly, "Can you take off your clothes? Here's a robe to cover up."

Marco fumbles, nervous and lacking his full range of motion. The nurse tries to help, but Jean warns her away with a quiet growl and helps his mate himself. Marco makes no move to correct him, grateful for the familiar touch in an unfamiliar environment.

"Alright, now lie down. Not on your back-- male Omegas usually feel discomfort lying on their back during labor. On your side is fine... There you go. Nice and easy."

The bed really is huge, and Jean can crawl in to sit. He cradles Marco's head in his lap while the nurse examines him. He winces, and Jean strokes his hair.

"Are you feeling any discomfort?"

"No-- no," Marco tries to look back at what she's doing, unsuccessfully, "It doesn't hurt, it’s just cold."

"Sorry about that," Nifa says with a small smile, moving her stethoscope under his belly and over his back, "but everything looks good. You're starting to dilate, though it may be awhile yet. In the meantime, let me introduce you to your room."

It's common knowledge that pain medications won't have any effect on a Dynamic giving birth, so they do everything they can otherwise to help ease the agony. His suite is equipped with several different means of comfort. There's a heating pad that can be applied to aching muscles, as well as a cold pack to soothe fevered skin. An oxygen mask is available in case the patient begins to feel dizzy or out of breath, a sink is ready to fill glasses of water and wet washcloths with... And a dial to dim the lights, something Marco didn't even know he'd end up appreciating.

"We find that it's best to leave Alphas and Omegas alone during labor, so I'll give you two your space," she says as she finishes hooking Marco up to a pulse monitor, "but don't hesitate to call for me if you need anything. Just press this button and I'll be here as soon as I can, okay?"

"Yes, thank yo-- _ggh!_ "

Marco words gag as another contraction washes over him. Nifa tries to touch him, but Jean warns her away again. Used to the behavior of Alphas in such situations, she respects the distance he puts between them while still attending to her patient. She kneels down in front of the bed to be eye level with Marco.

"Where does it hurt? Is it localized anywhere?"

"It-- it hurts all over," Marco is just able to gasp out, "but my back, my back hurts really bad...!"

"Jean, was it?" she address the Alpha, and he looks up in surprise, "apply the heating pad to the small of his back, and hold his neck. The touch of his Alpha can relieve some of his pain."

"U-uh, right!"

With one hand, he presses the pad up against Marco's body, and with the other, he firmly scruffs his Omega's neck. Marco makes an odd, gurgling sound, then begins to breathe in short, steady puffs.

"There you go. Keep breathing. It'll be over in a moment," Nifa reassures him. The contraction ends in less than a minute, and Marco closes his eyes, "don't hesitate to use the oxygen. It'll help you maintain your energy for when you really need it."

"Thank you..." he mumbles again, slowly regaining his senses.

"Don't mention it," She smiles, and stands, "I'll take my leave now. I think your Alpha has it from here."

Nifa quietly exits. Now that it's just the two of them, Jean scrutinizes the room with a critical eye. Wanting the best possible den for his mate, it's not quite up to standards, but it'll have to do. At least they're alone now. Marco starts to sit up again, and Jean's hands are there to gently support him.

"...You could have been nicer to her," Marco chuckles. His face is still a little drawn, but his good humor has returned to him for the time being.

"I don't want anyone touching you," he grumbles, and rubs his face into the back of his neck, "even if she _was_ good."

Marco turns his head, and they share a brief kiss.

"Let's fix this room a little."

Jean is more than happy to comply. They brought more than just clothes, but a few house-things with them as well. Marco's pillow, and the blanket off the back of their couch are the best. They smell just like home. He wraps it around his shoulders, burying his face in the fabric while Jean dims the lights in the room. He pours a glass of water and gets a basin ready with a damp cloth to place at the bedside before getting back on the bed to cuddle up with his mate. Jean releases a strong, calming Alpha scent, and it starts to drown out the unpleasant sterile smell of the hospital.

"Much better," Marco leans back against Jean, and he rubs his Omega's shoulders. He tries to relax as much as he can. Eventually, he won't even have the time, or be in the state of mind to do so.

\--

They take things slow and steady. Whatever Marco wants, Jean does everything he can to comply. Lying down in any weird position, or getting up to walk around, he helps him do it. They talk about the baby, and having a family, and it keeps his spirits up. Jean admires how tough he is. Sure, being an Alpha gives him incredible strength and endurance, but the ability to bear indescribable pain and still smile must be a talent entirely Omega.

Quite a few hours and a couple dozen contractions later, Marco's water breaks. They barely have the time to clean him up before everything gets intense.

They're only about 5 minutes apart now. He can't properly recover between each one. Marco takes up one position, on his hands and knees, his arms folded with his head resting on them and his ass in the air, and refuses to move. He keeps the oxygen mask over his face, the heating pad on his back and the cold pack on his forehead. Jean drapes their blanket over him, giving him comfort and a little bit of dignity, and runs his hands along his back when he's not massaging his neck during a contraction.

Marco doesn't talk anymore outside of simple requests and the occasional _thank you_. He lets out long, low groans when he's in pain, and forces himself to breathe when he isn't. It's alright. Jean understands. He's concentrating right now.

Instead, he talks twice as much for both of them. Not even about the baby, but stupid, inane things, just about anything that comes to mind. When his words run out, he leans ever-so-slightly against his Omega, and just croons. That feels the most natural. It's like they're the same being, doing the same thing. The steadiness of his own breathing gives Marco a proper rhythm, and they inhale and exhale together.

Jean completely loses track of time. They may have been lying there like that for a whole hour when Marco gives a puzzled moan. He tries to push himself up, and Jean supports his weight.

"I... I feel like something's moving."

As much as he wants to be alone with his mate, Jean does not hesitate the push the button Nifa had pointed out to him before. It only takes a minute for her to show up.

"Yes? How is everything?"

Marco takes Jean's shoulder with one hand, and crawls up into a sitting position, still holding the oxygen mask over his face with the other. Jean talks for him while he catches his breath.

"He said he felt like something was moving..."

"Down," Marco adds, removing the mask to speak, "it feels like it's moving down."

"Okay. Let me examine you again."

Marco lifts his hips as much as he can for her. Jean feels a surge of over-protective instincts; he really, _really_ doesn't want anyone to touch his Omega right now. It's all he can do to push his growl down to a displeased noise, as his rational side still knows that he's going to need Nifa's, and a real doctor's help in order to deliver this baby safely.

"Ah, here we are... Yes, you're nearly fully dilated. You should be able to give birth soon."

Marco slumps against Jean, exhausted and relieved. His Alpha kneads at his neck and croons. Nifa smiles a little, and touches his shoulder lightly.

"Don't give up just yet. Try and gather your strength. The baby needs you to get it out, so you'll have to work hard."

He nods at her, and squeezes his eyes shut as he feels another contraction take hold.

" _Oh_ , oh, that's definitely..."

"Right, right. I'll get the birthing team assembled. You might feel an urge to push, but wait until we're all ready. It won't hurt the baby."

This time, he doesn't respond, in too much pain. Jean nods for him.

"He's got it. I'll make sure he does. You go."

Nifa wastes no time in leaving now. When Marco's contraction passes, and he breathes, Jean nuzzles him happily.

"You hear what she said? It's really coming! Get pumped!"

For the first time in awhile, Marco pulls away his mask and laughs, however exhausted it sounds.

"Pumped? Jean..."

"Yeah man, you gotta get your energy up! You heard her! You have to get excited! You're gonna have a baby!"

"Yeah... Ha. I'm finally going to get to meet them...!"

"That's the spirit!" Jean kisses him, all over his freckles, and Marco giggles again, "big tough guy like you-- it's gonna be no problem."

"I've never felt less tough in my life."

"Oh, fuck that. You're crazy tough. I couldn't deal with this nearly half as well as you are."

"Some Alpha... _Ouuh_ , oh God," Marco leans heavily against Jean, forcing his weight, and Jean leans right back into him just as hard, "that's so weird! I wanna push!"

"Wait, wait," Jean runs his hands through Marco sweat-damp hair, "Remember what Nifa said? She'll be back in a second."

Marco nods hard, putting the oxygen mask over his face again. 'Seconds' ends up being a pretty accurate estimate, as Nifa bursts back in with another nurse and a doctor.

"He's already fully dilated, and is having urges," she explains on her way, "the fetus is in the correct position. We should prep him immediately."

"Right," the doctor puts on a mask, and snaps on some latex gloves, "get a BP monitor on him, and have him wait for the next contraction."

"You hear that?" Nifa comes close to Marco again, this time entirely ignoring Jean's warning growl, "the next time you have a contraction, you need to push. Bear down hard, like you're using the bathroom. Alpha... Jean," she addresses him, and he snaps out of his protective stance in surprise, "you can help. Hold Marco up, so he's on his knees. Under the shoulders... There you go. Marco, you can wrap your arms around his neck. You've got it. Very good."

During this little tango, the other nurse sneaks the device that monitors blood pressure onto Marco's hand. Jean is too preoccupied now to make any complaints about doctors getting too close, face to face with his mate.

"You ready?"

"I was ready hours ago," Marco replies with a tired smile. Jean steals a kiss from him.

A contraction comes in mere moments. He groans, grits his teeth, and pushes. The pain is terrible. It burns and stings and stabs all at once, and he can feel it-- he can feel the baby moving down. The increment may be so small it can't even be measured, but there's still movement. The contraction fades, and he loses the urge, so he stops. He feels light-headed, and before he can even say anything, Nifa gently puts the oxygen mask back over his face. Marco gulps down air, and his consciousness clears somewhat.

"How long?" he asks her, and doesn't have to clarify what about.

"Usually about an hour, so pace yourself. The last push is the hardest."

Marco nods, and moves away from the mask to instead bury his face in Jean's neck. His scent is as calming as ever as he feels a firm hand scruff him. He can do this. Just another hour of hard work, and he'll get to hold his child in his arms. The thought fills him with an odd strength, and he gathers himself up a little, sitting higher on his knees.

The next contraction comes, and then the next, and the next. The pushes still feel like they're accomplishing nothing on their own, but combined, he can tell that the baby is inching lower and lower. Each time the pain doubles on itself as he is stretched further than he's ever been before. It burns worse than anything he's ever felt in his life, but that burn is satisfying. It confirms that he's going somewhere, that things are moving, that this won't last forever...

"Ah, there!" Nifa exclaims, "you're just beginning to crown!"

At this point, he barely has the energy to do anything other than lean against Jean and breathe, but her excitement causes him to try and look over his shoulder. No such luck, he can't see anything...

"I--I'll..."

Jean swallows nervously, and shifts his grasp on Marco so he can try and see for himself. It's awkward, and embarrassing, but...

"It, it has dark hair!" he cries, and Marco feels a wonderful rush, like joy and adrenaline all at once, "it's soft..."

"Don't push it back in," he croaks, and Nifa laughs.

"He's right, you know. Don't ruin all his hard work! You have to support him, the next couple pushes are going to be difficult."

"R...right, sorry..."

"No, don't be," Marco rubs his sweaty cheek against Jean's. He doesn't mind at all, "I love you, I love you so much..."

The Alpha takes him up in his arms, strong enough to hold all his weight. Marco needs the  extra help. The next contraction comes, and he screams from the pain, and all the effort he puts into the push, squeezing every last drop of strength from his muscles. He feels distinct relief from the pressure inside him, although not completely--

"Here we are! That's the head!"

"Wh-wha--"

Marco scrambles, and Nifa urges Jean to hold him tighter to keep him still.

"It's okay, it's okay! Shh!"

"But-- shouldn't there be crying?"

"Not yet! We haven't cleared it's mouth or nose; wait until you have to push again! Once the shoulders are free, we can pull it the rest of the way out!"

Not completely convinced, Marco wants to push right away, but his body knows not to. He's forced to wait those agonizing seconds before giving one last, gargantuan heave, and it feels like he's being torn in two. But the pressure is gone, it slips out of him all at once, and he collapses against Jean.

The baby lets out a loud and lusty wail.

"It's a girl!"

Marco looks up at his mate. There's an expression of such delight on his face, the likes of which he has not seen since they were children. He smiles weakly, and turns to catch his first glimpses of their daughter, kicking her arms and legs in the air as the nurses give her a cursory cleaning.

"Come here, Jean."

Nifa beckons him over. He looks down to Marco, who nods. Jean lies him down on his side, and offers him his oxygen before standing up to join the nurses. He takes the umbilical cord and bites through it without a moment's hesitation. He then lingers, watching carefully as they give her a proper bath and other tests of thriving, feeling a new and massive, protective love towards his tiny girl...

He hears a miserable, pained mewl behind him. All the hairs on the back of Jean's neck stand up.

" _Marco!_ "

Jean flings himself back to the other side of the room, climbing onto the bed to lean over his Omega. He looks pale, grey, his hand shaking to hold his mask as he takes in panicked gasps of air.

"Marco," Jean smoothes his hair back, looking wildly around him like it will provide him with an answer to his sudden troubles, "Marco, it's okay, everything's okay. I'm here..."

"It hurts...!" he whines, "it really, really hurts!"

The machines connected to Marco begin to beep in alarm. Jean's heart is gripped by an icy hand.

"His BP is dropping rapidly!" the unknown nurse shouts, and the doctor returns her attention to Marco, examining him again. He cries out. Her gloves come back covered in a thick coat of blood.

"He's bleeding internally! We need to get him to the O.R., stat!"

Jean isn't stupid. He knows what those abbreviations mean. He's not letting anyone near his mate, who just gave birth! He growls, loud and aggressive, hovering and ready to lash out at anyone who dares to get within arm's reach, already swatting at the very doctors who were helping him just moments before.

"Jean..." Marco keens weakly, "Jean, they need to take me..."

"No! They can't touch you!"

"Jean, please..."

" _No!_ "

"...take care of her for me."

The piercing noise of his daughter crying permeates his hearing once more. He looks back. Nifa is holding her.

His moment of indecision is taken advantage of. Out of nowhere, two large Beta males tackle him off of Marco's bed. It's so sudden that he can't react. Marco is taken out of his sight, and he roars in rage, ready to destroy anything that would get in-between him and his mate...

"Please, wait!"

Courageous Nifa quickly kneels beside him, and holds out his new baby for him to see.

For the first time, his heart tears as he's given the choice between two that he loves equally. Two that he would protect with his life. His chest heaves, and he shakes his head wildly, struggling within his mind. He has to... He has to...

Marco told him to take care of her.

Jean makes a noise of pure misery, but he stops. The Betas slowly let go of his arms. He holds his shaking hands out to Nifa, and she gives him his daughter. Her cries are the only sound in the otherwise silent room. He cradles her close to his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I've got the gender down (obviously), and a couple of names in mind... but other suggestions are still open, as always. I'm probably only going to have a few more chapters, but that doesn't mean I can't still squeeze yours in!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now you can all feel better about everything. You're welcome.

He's not sure how much time he spends there on the floor. Each shuddering breath he forces through his lungs feels like an eternity of effort. Marco is out there, Marco _needs_ him, but he can't respond. No matter how hard that pulls at him, his crying daughter anchors him in place. He would comfort her if could, but he can't even comfort himself. The torture of purposefully ignoring how terrified he knows his mate is takes all of his concentration to endure.

Nifa is still sitting beside him.

"Jean, can you hear me?"

She's probably said that several times now, but this is the first time he remembers it. Jean blinks as he tries to make room for her words in his mind.

"Yeah."

"I need you to get up, okay? I have to take you somewhere."

She stands up as example, like he's forgotten how. Even then, it takes him time to respond. He shifts his weight from his behind, to his knees, to the soles of his feet...

The world suddenly spins. He staggers in dizziness, and Nifa is behind him, putting her hands on his back to steady him.

"Be careful! You're holding a baby-- just take it nice and slow."

It's hard to keep that in mind, when he realizes why he feels so disoriented. It's his bond. He can't feel Marco anymore. All the pain and the fear, how just a moment ago he knew that his Omega was crying out for the comfort that only he can provide; it's all gone.

A line has been severed. With it, there's a weight that's gone too. It's like carrying something heavy all your life, and then suddenly letting go. He can't compensate for the loss. Jean moans in anguish. The emptiness is painful, and he can feel his heart slam against his ribcage as anxiety floods through him like poison in his veins.

"I... I can't..."

"You have to," Nifa says calmly, still behind him, "for your daughter. Just think about her."

His daughter. Jean looks down at her, and her little weight fills up some of the space that Marco's loss has left vacant. He shifts her in his arms, and he can feel the floor under his feet again.

"There you go. Come on. This way."

Nifa leads him out of the birthing suite and into the hospital corridor. The lights are too bright, the smells too sharp, and he hisses softly.

"Do you remember the liability forms that you signed?"

Liability... Yes. He nods.

An Alpha in a hospital with their mate is a naturally dangerous thing. Possessiveness and instincts can drive them to violence in grave situations. This puts everyone in the building at risk. So before an Alpha is allowed to enter a hospital, they have to understand that they are a liability, and give the staff special permissions in case the worst happens. Otherwise, the hospital is completely within their rights to throw them out if they cause damage.

This is one of those times. He has to comply with Nifa if he wants to stay here. He'll do anything, as long as it means he gets to stay as close to Marco as possible.

"You're not going to take her from me," he murmurs, lacking a questioning inflection-- it's the one thing he absolutely refuses to do. Marco told him to take care of her. He will not disappoint his mate.

"Of course not," Nifa quietly reassures him, "she's perfectly healthy, so she's all yours. I just need to take you to a safe room."

Ah. So that's where they're going. They come to a thick, steel door with window along the adjacent wall that Jean can tell is a two-way mirror. It slides open with the touch of a button. The lights turn on, and Nifa wrinkles her nose, obviously displeased with something.

"No, this won't do for a newborn at all," she shakes her head, and beckons an orderly over, "this room needs to be... adjusted. Wheel in a basinet for the baby. And that chair won't be comfortable enough. Get something better. Something that can rock. Can these lights be dimmed? They're far too bright."

Jean ignores her, however wonderfully helpful she's being. He slowly walks to the furthest corner of the room, leans his side against the wall and slides down to sit. He curls his whole body tightly around his baby, as close as can be. People move things in and out, and he doesn't even notice. Nifa says something to him, the lights go down, and the door closes.

Grief hits him like a freight train. Anxiety's poison reaches his heart, and brings a whole fresh hell of suffering with it. He breathes harder, faster, whines loudly, but nothing relieves it. Tears sting at his eyes, and a sound like something dying pushes itself out of his gut.

" _Marco_..."

No matter how he begs, their bond does not respond. Jean cries, wet and messy and ugly, desperate for any sort of reaction....

He hears his daughter mewl, and it tugs at the strings of his now-open heart.

"I'm sorry," he manages to choke out, "This wasn't supposed to happen..."

His tears only seem to make her cry harder. Of course he's freaking her out. Even the tiniest, newest babies can pick up on emotion like this. He has to calm down. He has to be an Alpha. For her.

"I know, I know," Jean picks her up again, holding her like he remembered holding Flynn, supporting her head against his shoulder. She's so small. She fits right into the palms of his hands, "I Just... I really want Marco. He's like magic, you know? He makes everything better."

He stands up again, and steadies himself against the wall before beginning to pace the floor. Not too fast. Just enough to provide a little repetitive motion to soothe both their nerves. It's really hard to force the noise when he's this upset, but he manages a warbling croon in his chest to try and comfort his girl.

It begins to work. The occasional tear or sniffle still slips past him, but it seems like she's appreciating the effort. She coos and wriggles against him, but her wailing ceases.

"That's my girl. You're so strong-- even stronger than I am. I can't even think straight without your daddy here. You think you can take care of me until he comes back?"

He turns his head to give her a gentle kiss to the ear. Her brand-new scent is wonderful. His legs feel a little weak, and he finally sits down in the rocking recliner he's been provided. Jean leans back in it, letting her rest against him, chest to chest, her little body breathing little breaths. It reminds him to breathe too. He can do this...

"Thanks, babe. I love you."

\--

As his mind clears, Jean takes some time to examine his new daughter. He's always been of the opinion that newborns are impossible to tell apart, and she's still red-faced and blotchy from the birth, but-- She has dark hair, darker than the natural color that still shows under his cut. She's yet to open her eyes long enough for him to really see what they look like, but they'll probably be darker too. Just like Marco. He strokes that hair with a free finger, wondering if she'll develop any cute freckles.

He blinks out of his reverie to the faintest traces of a dearly familiar scent. Any lingering tiredness in his limbs completely vanishes, and it's all he can do not to leap out of his chair and rudely wake his daughter from her first slumber. As gently as he can force himself, he shifts his grip on her so he's cradling her in his arms instead, and stands to pace again in front of all he can see as a mirror. Marco must be close by; they must have him somewhere--

A clear, male voice sounds through a speaker in the room, just quiet enough to not disturb his child.

"Jean, we're going to need you to restrain yourself."

The scent is growing stronger. He looks up, and then around himself, feeling his skin prickle with frantic energy.

"Do you have Marco? Is he okay? You gotta let me see him!"

The response takes far too long for his liking.

"Please comply."

Jean snorts in frustration. Restrain himself... fine.

First, he has to make his daughter comfortable. Jean looks into the bassinet, and finds it unsuitable. He puts her down, then strips off his sweatshirt and undershirt, using them to line the crib. At least then it would smell like him. He kisses her forehead, and strokes her cheek a few times before approaching the restraints.

It's a simple chair, reinforced with vice-like steel clasps that clamp around his wrists and ankles. There's no way for him to trigger them on or off. When he sits, and puts his limbs in the correct positions as marked, someone outside presses a button and the mechanisms slowly click shut.

Jean licks his lips as Marco's scent strangles him. There's a buzzing noise, and the door opens.

The restraints are necessary. He sees Marco, and every rational thought that every existed in his head gets tossed out like garbage. All of his senses zero in on his mate. Even when he knows that he's completely locked down, he struggles with violent strength to try and get up as several hospital workers wheel an unconscious Marco in, making a terrible racket as he grunts and rattles the chair. There are all sorts of tubes and machines connected to him that they have to plug in and situate, and each time they touch him, Jean's helpless rage builds. When he absolutely can't take it anymore, he lets out an inhuman shriek. All of the nurses jump, and one even crumples up for a moment in reactionary fear.

 _Good!_ He thinks to himself in drunken pride. All the better that they leave his Omega alone! He's ready to do it again... Until he hears his baby cry. It's like getting soaked with an ice-cold bucket of clarity.

"No, hun, shhh... It's okay," he whispers to her, wishing he brought the cradle closer to this chair. The nurses look amongst themselves, and begin working again. Their probing hands are all but forgotten as he pleads with his daughter "I'm so sorry. I'm not mad at you, don't cry..."

As soon as everything is in place, everyone is quick to vacate the room. The restraints don't release. Jean is still trying to sweet-talk his baby, but he looks up, wondering why he hasn't been let go.

"Before I disengage the restraints," the voice speaks up again, "I just want to emphasize the importance of not disturbing any of the machines or intravenous solutions hooked up to Marco. It's vital that they remain in place."

"Okay," Jean nods upwards, and the vices open. Finally! He wheels the bassinet over to Marco's bedside, so he can sit down and rub his daughter's belly in an attempt to soothe her while also scrutinizing every detail about his Omega, just returned to him.

He's lying on his side, and he looks like death warmed over. His grey appearance causes Jean to whine in quiet distress. The oxygen tube taped to his cheek and fed into his nose certainly doesn't help either-- he understands now why the disembodied voice told him not to move anything, as he feels the urge to rip it off. But he can hear the whirr of it working as Marco inhales and exhales. He has to leave it alone.

The baby quiets, and Jean gives his full attention to disrobing his mate and running his fingertips all over his body, looking for scars or other abrasions. He's fine, except for a heavy bandage laid under the curve of his still-prominent belly. Jean hisses at the sight of it.

"What was wrong with him?" he asks the voice that he knows is still listening, "What did you do?"

"His placenta was malformed, and wasn't separating properly. It was tearing his uterus, and causing internal bleeding. We had to operate to surgically remove it, as well as repair his uterus."

Jean narrows his eyes. He disapproves of any pain his Omega has to endure, even the necessary kind. He smoothes out a bit of kinky hair near Marco's temple.

"Is he under anesthesia?"

"Yes," the voice replies, "the baby was thankfully already born, and healthy, so his body accepted the drugs. I promise he didn't feel a thing."

Thank God. If they operated on Marco while he was still conscious, he very well might have had to kill someone.

"...Will he be okay?"

Jean can barely squeeze the words out of his throat.

"He may seem in bad shape now," the voice takes on a positive, consoling tone, "however; I can guarantee outside of any unforeseen tragedy, he will recover. We're not sure how this may affect his ability to have more children in the future, but his life is not in danger."

Jean lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. The feeling of tension leaving his body is so palpable it makes him tremble, and he lies across Marco's torso, crying silently.

"Good," he says quietly, "...Thank you. Now go away."

The voice actually chuckles, suddenly feeling more human.

"Of course. I'll give you all your privacy."

There's a clicking noise. At the very least, whoever's out there isn't face-to-face with them anymore. He leans there against his mate, skin touching skin, until the last of his tears drain from him.

Tiny, flickering warmth, like a candle, lights up inside of him and settles heavy in his stomach. Their bond. Even when Marco is unconscious, Jean can feel it when they're this close. It's not telling him anything, but at least it's there. He relishes in its return, regaining enough strength to sit up and wipe his face off.

"You're freezing, babe," he talks to Marco, still a little phelgmy, running the backs of his fingers up and down his arm, "that sheet isn't doing shit. Did they bring our stuff in here...?"

Jean wasn't paying attention when they were moving crap in and out at first. He gets up to search a nearby cabinet, and finds their bags inside, along with their blanket. Good, they didn't end up bringing it into O.R. prep with Marco and throwing it out. That's all he takes for now, and tucks it firmly around his mate's body. Maybe some of his color will come back if he warms up a bit.

In the meantime...

"Hey, sweetheart," he murmurs to his daughter, still not quite asleep, and lifts her out of the nest he made for her, "come on, say hi to your daddy."

He holds her low in his arms, close to Marco's body. She should be able to catch at least a bit of his scent from here. Of course, she's too new yet to know, or really react, but she doesn't seem adverse to the little introduction. Maybe Marco can tell she's there too.

"This is Marco. You kind of already know him-- you spent a long time in his belly. He just gave birth to you, and something bad happened, and that made him really, really tired. So he has to sleep. But I promise he loves you a whole lot, and he wants to hold you real bad. He will when he wakes up. I bet you'll like him even more than you like me. He doesn't do stupid stuff, like yell and scare you..."

She whimpers and paws her tiny arms in the air. Jean gathers her up tighter, closer to his chest.

"What's the matter, hun? What'dyou-- _ggh!_ "

The hungry baby latches onto his nipple, and it's all Jean can do not to cry out and startle her.

"F-fuck... I mean, frick--" that _smarts_ , "no no no, honey, you can't, I don't-- Oh God, please let go!"

He can't do anything to forcefully remove her, afraid he'll hurt her... But eventually, frustrated that she's not getting any milk, the girl lets go and begins to cry.

People are laughing behind the mirror; he can hear them even though the speaker isn't on. Jean shoots himself an embarrassed glare, hoping he catches someone with eye-contact.

"I'll get you some formula..." a new, female voice calls over the system, voice rife with amusement. Jean huffs at the indignity of it all.

\--

Marco remembers Jean being forced off of his bed. He remembers the pain in his gut that made him sweat, and the pain in his heart as he longed for his newborn and his Alpha tugged hard at his bond. He remembers a nurse with a calming scent and a kind voice asking for his hand, and sliding a needle under his skin. She told him to count backward from 90. He only made it a few numbers down before slipping away.

He thinks he's been asleep for a really long time. He wants to wake up. His consciousness feels like it's wrapped up in fluffy cotton. Comfortable, but difficult to sense anything around. First, he takes a deep breath, but smells only a clean nothing-smell. He concentrates on that for awhile. He can hear a beeping noise too. Beep, beep, beep. Clear and far away. He times his breathing with the beeping.

Marco opens his eyes. Just barely. It takes time for all the blurry colors and points of light to form cohesive shapes.

Jean. He's lying back in a chair, rocking gently, rolling one of those little suckers around in his mouth. And-- _oh!_ His little girl, he's holding his baby girl against his shoulder. It's so beautiful! If only he'd hold her closer, so he could touch her... He hasn't even touched her yet, or hugged her, or kissed her! His baby!

The most pitiful, Omegan mewl rolls out of him. It's too much. He closes his eyes, and drifts off again against his will.

"Marco... Marco...!"

 _Jean_ , he wants to call back, but all he can manage is a dry rasp accompanied by a weak cough.

"It's okay babe. Don't push yourself. Just relax," Marco feels a hand in his hair as he speaks, "I'm gonna give you some water through a straw. Take little sips."

Something presses against his lips. He pokes his tongue out to take it in, and sucks. Sweet, sweet water. It cools his mouth and throat. He drinks as much as he can before having to stop to breathe, and rests a little bit. Jean is stroking his arm.

His strength comes back around, and he tries opening his eyes again. He finds himself almost nose-to-nose with his Alpha, who's kneeling on the floor. His smile is infectious. Marco finds his lips twitching up at the sight of him.

"'Morning, sleeping beauty."

"M--morning..." he slurs, his tongue feeling thick.

"Or afternoon. Night. I have no fu-- freaking clue what time it is."

He really has been under anesthesia for awhile. There's a dull stinging under his gut-- Marco clumsily feels the bandage there, and Jean pulls his hands away.

"Don't mess with it. You've got stitches and stuff under there."

"What h-happened?"

"There was something wrong with your afterbirth," Jean brushes his bangs back to kiss his forehead, "it was tearing. They had to surgically remove it. But you'll be okay."

Marco wouldn't have a problem with just basking in his Alpha's affections, if one thought wasn't occupying his entire mind right now.

"Do you--" he swallows, "do you still have her...?"

"Yep," Jean gives him a toothy grin, and turns around to a small cradle Marco didn't notice before-- and why isn't he wearing a shirt? But then Jean lays his daughter next to him, with his hoodie under her like a blanket, and he gets it, "here you go. Get to know each other."

A small whine escapes Marco powerful feelings of love, adoration and protectiveness pound against him like waves. It's the most wonderful hurt he's ever felt. He lifts his hand, still full of tubes, to touch her silky skin, her soft hair, drinking in every inch of her. Every little sound she makes causes him to melt all over again. A few tears fall from his eyes unbidden.

"Is she okay? I-- I mean, I..."

"Shh," Jean shakes his head, and holds Marco's shoulder, "She's more than okay. She's perfect."

He sighs in relief, and leans in close to touch his head to hers. Jean puts his chin in one hand while still stroking his arm with the other, adoring his Omega adoring their child.

"...I can't smell her." Marco mumbles, and Jean chuckles.

"You're not awake at all yet, are you?" he grins, and Marco barely protests, "you've got an oxygen tube in. Here."

It can't hurt him to take it off for a few minutes. Without disturbing the tape on his cheeks, Jean lifts the apparatus away from Marco's nose. He takes a deep breath, and savors the return of his sense.

Jean's scent hangs heavy in the air, to the point where he can't even smell "hospital" anymore. And his girl, oh she smells _great_. Delicate, fresh and new. He wishes he could bottle it up... He's drifting again, intoxicated by her.

"You wanna sleep some more?"

Yes. Yes he does. But he can't right now. Not yet.

"Has she eaten? Is she hungry?"

"Uh, yeah," Jean turns a little red and rubs at one side of his chest, "I fed her a little bit of formula... But if you think you can feed her, the nurses said that would be good. Something about 'first milk'..."

"I know. Mnn..." Marco slowly shifts himself onto his back. It aches, but he can handle it, "Jean. Help."

"On it."

Jean joins him on the bed, and very gently lifts him to sit up. It makes him dizzy, but it's okay. As long as he has something to lean against, he can be a little dizzy. Marco cradles his daughter with the utmost care, and Jean wraps his arms under his own, giving him support.

"...When exactly did I get naked?"

Marco could have sworn they at least put a robe on him for decency. Jean laughs nervously behind him.

"I, uh... Sorry. I took it off when I was checking to make sure you were okay. Are you cold?"

"No. The blanket's warm. That actually makes this easier..."

...But he's still nervous. Marco lifts her up to his breast, unsure if she's even interested-- She turns her head, just barely, like she can smell the milk on him, then brings her arms up to her mouth and latches on tight.

" _Ah!_ "

That is so strange. It's painful, but it feels relieving at the same time. Marco moans, and Jean nuzzles his neck, watching their daughter feed intently over his shoulder.

"Does it hurt?"

"A little?" Marco shifts her in his arms, "but it feels good too. To feed her. I think it's a hormonal thing."

She suckles for a long time, much longer than she fed on the bottle. Maybe even longer than he actually has milk, just enjoying the sensation of being close to her father. She practically falls asleep on the teat.

"She's got your appetite," Jean smirks, and Marco leans forward as much as he can to lick her face clean, "...looks like you, too."

"I know," he sighs, and rests back against his Alpha, "I'm kind of disappointed... It'd be cute if she looked like you."

"Me? Nah. You're the cute one in this relationship... Besides, now her name really suits her."

"Emilia?"

They'd only been able to agree on one. It did sound good with his. Emilia and Marco. Emilia and Marco and Jean. Marco smiles and nods.

"Emilia... I like that."

She gives a great little yawn, and Marco yawns with her. No good. Jean can't hold his in either.

"Come on," he mumbles after smacking his lips, "you fed her, and now she's asleep. You need to rest."

Marco can't argue with him. Weariness is catching up with his body. Jean settles him down on his side, puts his oxygen back on, and makes him comfortable with his pillow and blanket. Emilia still lies before him on Jean's sweatshirt.

"If I sleep like this, you have to watch, make sure I don't roll over..."

"Don't worry, I'm not sleeping anytime soon," Jean sits back in the recliner, and unwraps another lollipop to suck on, "She'll be fine."

If Jean was anything less than his Alpha, he'd be concerned. But Marco trusts him. He takes Emilia's hand with the tips of his fingers, and falls into a steady slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your support, kudos and comments, as always! Please continue to leave your thoughts, and any suggestions if you have them! I love talking to you guys!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm writing, and get to about 4000 words and realize, damn, I'm gonna need to split this up before it gets monstrously long. So this is gonna have a part 2, it's not over yet!
> 
>  **After the first break, the story goes into a flashback,** so don't be confused!

Marco has to spend a few more days than expected at the hospital so they can monitor his condition as he recovers. He's always been healthy, and he bounces back quickly after the normal exhaustion from giving birth fades away. It sucks to have sutures inside of him, keeping him in bed, and he's still in some pain, but Emilia makes it all worth it. He spends every waking moment fawning over her, making up for abandoning her against his will when she was just born. Thankfully, it doesn't seem to have affected her attachment to him at all. She responds as well to him as she does to Jean.

All three of them are more than ready to go home when the doctors finally give the okay. Marco has strict orders to stay off his feet, but it's still a million times better than this stupid hospital. He can't wait to get Emilia out of this oppressive place, and into a warmer environment, one that they made for her...

And Jean's running on fumes. He hasn't slept at all since coming here. It's possible for an Alpha to deprive themselves for long periods of time, but the consequence is a very loopy Jean. All he can manage is to take care of his mate and offspring; it's impossible to get him to rouse himself to do anything else. If the world was ending outside their door, he'd have no idea. Marco has to take care of talking for the both of them. It probably takes all of his remaining brain-power to drive back to their complex.

Marco gets in a wheelchair that they've borrowed from the hospital, Emilia snuggled tight in his arms, and Jean pushes them up the accessibility ramp with their bags thrown over his back. Even the most meager familiarity is having a soporific effect on him, and he yawns widely in the elevator, eyelids heavy as he leans on the handles of the chair for support.

"You'll love it here," Marco coos, snuggling his daughter, "the beds are soft, it doesn't smell all nasty, and we've got a whole room made up just for you..."

"Food doesn't suck," Jean contributes, and Marco chuckles. It wasn't any good, but it was particularly offensive to Jean, who knew he could make something much better. He's looking forward to making his family a proper meal.

"Mm-hm. And you'll get to see grandma again!"

Wait, what?

Jean doesn't have time to process the thought before he opens their door, and sees Marco’s mother waiting on their couch. Oh, right. Marco did say she would be here to help... When was that? He'd completely forgotten about it.

"Marco!" she exclaims, and gets up right away to give her son a hug and a kiss on the forehead, "oh honey, you look so much better. How are you feeling?"

His mother bears a striking resemblance to him, a Beta with dark, wavy hair and a smattering of freckles on her cheeks as well. But she's rather short, and stout. Marco gets his impressive stature from his father, an Alpha. They were all very surprised when he turned out to be an Omega, but to them it's just another funny story to share over the dinner table. They love him all the same.

"I'm okay mom," he smiles up at her; he'd hug her back if his arms weren't full "just kinda sore."

"Well you don't have to do anything but relax while I'm here," she runs a hand through his hair; "we wanna make sure you heal up right. And oh, Emilia! My grandbaby!"

She runs a gentle finger over her tuft of hair, and gives it to her to grasp.

"Look at that. She looks just like you did when you were a baby. Just wait until you get her into the sun, those freckles will come right out."

Marco's mother might be the first person Jean hasn't growled at for getting too close since he first checked into the hospital. There's something different about blood relatives. He doesn't feel any threat from her. And besides...

"Oh, Jean," he feels a hand on his cheek, and he snaps back to reality. She's looking at him with a sympathetic smile, "You're so good to my Marco."

"Muh?"

"She means you look terrible, Jean," Marco looks back at him with the same sort of expression, "I don't think he's blinked since I had the surgery,"

"Poor thing," she sighs, "I'm here to take care of you like always, alright?"

Jean has been a part of their family for much longer than since they became bonded. They were friends throughout their whole childhoods. His parents weren't abusive by any stretch of the imagination, but they were a little... neglectful. They haven't really been a part of his life. Marco's family gave him all the parental love he needed instead.

"Thanks, ma," he mumbles, and she gives him a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the head.

"You're welcome. Now let's get the both of you into bed, hmm?"

Bed sounds _great_. He wheels Marco into their room, and as his mother takes Emilia and helps his mate, he sits on his side and takes off his socks and belt. Their mattress is so soft it almost feels impossible. He lies back with a groan, and muscles he didn't know were tense finally relax as he makes himself horizontal for the first time in days. He turns on his side, and he feels Marco's fingers lightly scratch the hairs at the nape of his neck. Jean sighs in appreciation.

They're home. His mother is there to take care of them. There's nothing to worry about. He can finally sleep.

\--

"Are you _sure_ this is the way you need to go?"

"Yeah, it's just a couple more miles down this road."

The sun has almost finished setting. Jean wakes himself up, gets his shit together and shoulders his backpack.

It's been a couple of months since he last left the Packs.

It's very common for young Alphas to experience some wanderlust, and it's more or less safe for them to act on that instinct-- Alphas only really attack to prove strength or dominance, and among regular humans, that's a moot point. Of course they're the strongest in their world. And without scents or hormones to react to, they tend to fall to a baseline mood. Jean finds it easier to control himself around humans than he does around other Dynamics.

As long as they keep themselves out of trouble and obey human laws, all Dynamics are can take leave of the Packs after receiving permission. The only thing they aren't allowed to do is divulge the nature of what they really are. While someday they would like to be able to integrate into the human world, there are still too many threats to their kind to attempt such a political move.

This is not Jean's first trip. He's regularly disappeared from the Packs ever since he found out he's an Alpha. He lacks the sense of belonging that most Dynamics feel with each other, and more than just because of his poor attitude and temper. He hasn't been able to build any sort of pack-like camaraderie with his kind. His family doesn't give a crap about him either. So whenever his frustrations build too high for him to handle, he just picks himself up and leaves. He goes somewhere where nobody should know him or care about him anyways, and the burden of his species is lifted from his shoulders. He can just... exist.

More than once he's considered never returning. It happens sometimes, and as long as he keeps his mouth shut, he shouldn't have to feel any consequences from the Packs. It would be so easy.

If not for one person.

"Holy shit. Is that it?"

It's always awkward, finding a driver to take him back. It's amazing how humans barely ever come upon this place and are shocked to see it for the first time. They probably think it's some sort of secret military compound... Which isn't far from the truth.

"You just have to take me to the gate, and I'll pay you."

The cabbie looks back at him like he thinks he somehow landed someone from Interpol in his car, but doesn't say anything more. They drive up to the guard station, Jean gives the man his money, and gets out of the back seat to present his identification to the person stationed there. The cab leaves in all haste. He's going to have one heck of a story to tell his boss.

"Jean Kirstein, Alpha," he repeats from the card, looking up from the picture to compare its likeness to who's in front of him. The I.D. is recent, so there's no mistaking it. Jean can smell his Beta scent, the first he's encountered in months, and he wrinkles his nose a little, "state the purpose of your trip."

"Sightseeing," Jean replies dully, the same excuse he's used for years. He sets his bag down for inspection before the guard can even ask.

"You've got a lot of stamps on your card," he remarks as he picks up the pack and sends it through an x-ray machine, "you like to travel?"

"Sort of."

"I remember being your age. Had a fair number of trips myself," the guard chuckles to himself as he stamps his card and ties a ticket to his backpack, "welcome home. Mr. Kirstein."

Jean gives his insincere thanks, and the Beta returns his bag and flips the switch to let him enter. As soon as he passes the fortified walls, new scents start to combine and waft around him. He pulls a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket.

\--

Marco walks halfway down his hall before remembering he has to lock his own door. He turns around and fumbles his keys with a gentle curse. His parents were always the ones that locked the door at home...  Being an independent adult is turning out to be nothing more than a series of tiny inconveniences that he now has to take care of himself. For example, rushing to the corner bodega before it closes to get the cereal that he ran out of this morning.

But he likes his freedom. Living with your family when you're a maturing Omega can get a little awkward. It's easier to deal with urges when you have your privacy and space.

He exits his building and takes a moment to savor the fragrant summer evening air. The stars are just beginning to come out. It's times like these, seeing the same stars every night that he wonders where Jean is. He always feels like he's missing a part of himself when he disappears. He's his best friend. And he worries that someday, he won't come wandering back, leaving him to deal with that emptiness forever.

He heaves a sigh and closes his eyes for a second of contemplation.

A cold hand clamps over his mouth, and a body presses firmly against his back. Something metallic grazes his throat.

Marco starts to scream, but as soon as the person feels the hum against his hand, the blade bites into his neck. The pain sends a rush of panic through his body. He can't resist, his life is at stake. But that and what else? His wallet is obviously in his back pocket, if the man wants his money he could easily take it...

His assailant expertly moves the knife around and Marco subconsciously herds himself into an alleyway to avoid being cut. The only thing he can do is try and force a scent, so someone might catch wind and follow. Soon, he's deep in the bowels of the Packs, being led through turns and curves and into a dead-end. He can only make out the vague shapes of two other people waiting in the darkness before his face is pressed into a brick wall.

"What the fuck? he's huge!"

Marco glances aside as far as he can to try and catch a glimpse of this new voice, but he still can't see them. He can only guess that they're male.

"Dude, you fucked up. There's no way he's an Omega."

"You think I can't smell?" the one that's got him held growls back, "he's just big-- now tie him up already!"

"I wanted a woman..."

"Then you're not gonna get any," a female voice chimes in, and he hears her footsteps approach, "God, you're such a prick. He's an Omega; they're all a bunch of whores-- Stop squirming! Little...!"

Now that he's fully aware of what they intend to do, true panic rushes through him. It pulses hot in his veins and breaks out as an icy sweat on his skin. Marco is going to "squirm" as much as he can until his life is the last thing he has left to give. He's strong, maybe he can get away; he tries to bite the hand over his mouth so he can cry for help.

"Whiny bitch! You wanna play? Let's play!"

He's able to turn his head long enough to see the woman take a wrapping off her neck. Then it hits him-- _Alpha_. Strong, bitter, acidic Alpha. He chokes as it floods his sense of smell and taste, trying to expel the pheromone before it affects him, but a hand grabs the back of his neck so hard that his whole body goes limp.

"See?" she hisses. He can feel her breath whistle against the shell of his ear as one of the others ties his hands up to a nearby gutter and gags him, "you like it, don't you? All you Omegas want is a good fucking. You're lucky there's plenty of Alphas here to go around."

The scent suddenly intensifies, and it's all he can do not to whine out loud in response to being so thoroughly overwhelmed by three Alphas at once. His consciousness becomes hazy, his throat thick, and he slides down the wall to the grimy ground beneath him. He's still fully aware that he's in danger, the thought flashes bright and scorching in the back of his mind, but he can't respond.

"I told you I can pick 'em," the man that first caught him snorts, and withdraws his knife, "he's young too. Look at him go."

"This'll be cake. Almost too easy," the other man adds with nonchalance.

"I forgot you like it when they struggle," the woman almost laughs, "you're disgusting."

"Shut up. So I like breaking them in. But I bet he's already hard-- what a slut."

The one that had been standing by until now squats down, and Marco turns away, using every last ounce of his willpower to show with his body language that this isn't something that he wants. It doesn't change a thing. The man runs his fingers down his neck, rubbing hard against his scent glands, and he can't help but moan.

He tried. He did his best. His loved ones would rather have him broken and alive than a corpse that struggled to its death. Marco cries a few hot tears of shame as his belt is unbuckled.

A roar pierces the fog that he's floating in, loud and clear. Marco looks up, and sees the outline of a figure. Among all the Alpha scents battling for his attention, he catches the lingering smell of cigarette smoke.

"Get the hell _away from him!_ "

The figure rushes in so fast it's nothing but a blur of motion, and tosses the two stander-bys away with bullish strength, flinging them into the walls with audible, sickening _cracks_. He charges the man with his hand in Marco's pants, takes his face in one hand, and slams his head into the pavement.

Marco gets one, good close look at his savior from here, and he recognizes his silhouette.

_Jean...?_

By now his cohorts have recovered, and close in to both attack at once and save him from having his skull reduced to a bloody pulp on the concrete. Chaos breaks out, an explosive fire from a single, well-placed spark. Normally a three-on-one fight between Alphas would never end favorably for the lesser party, but Jean is consumed with hellish determination. He moves from one foe to the next as they rotate their attacks, breaking bones and flaying flesh. They claw and punch and even stab him, but nothing stops his relentless assault. Every time they even dare to take a step towards Marco, he roars even louder, and concentrates his attacks on whoever is closest, refusing to let them lay a hand on him again.

It's like a bunch of wild dogs have just been set upon each other. Marco can't separate the four as they dive at each other, tearing and ripping. Finally, Jean pins the ringleader on his back, and using his teeth, goes in for the throat. He worries at his windpipe as an animal would, meaning to tear it out. One of the others kicks him away just in time, and he rolls in Marco's direction. He stands between him and their pack like a bloody sentinel, a gut deep snarl on his breath and gore dripping from his mouth.

"The fuck is wrong with this kid!" the female yells as the other gathers up his fallen leader, "It's just some damn Omega! They're not even mated!"

Jean's enraged scream rips through the air, a terrible, nails-on-chalkboard screeching _noise_ , and all three of them take a step back. It's obvious now that this isn't just a matter of who's the most dominant; it's that his life, their lives, mean nothing in the face of Marco's life, and it's time to cut their losses. If they don't, that Alpha is going to make sure they're all dead before he ever gives up.

"Forget it," the man with the knife gurgles through his injured vocal chords, "we got a bad hand. We're folding."

The female spits in anger, the most dominant and tenacious of the three, but if she doesn't have back up, she's not going in to fight that guy again. Beaten, she skulks away, still refusing to bow as they disappear into the night.

Jean stands there, chest heaving, until what little scent he's capable of perceiving is completely gone. He falls to a knee, holding his side tight, trying to shake off the aggression still boiling under his skin. Blood is blooming through his clothing.

Marco keens to him, still gagged, but the sound is enough to shift his attention. Right... Jean staggers back to his feet, and takes a few shuffling steps back towards him. His hands are slick with viscera, but he manages to get the knot around his wrists undone. Marco then takes off his gag himself. He throws his arms around Jean, completely enveloping him, burying his face in his hair as he cries with hiccupping sobs.

"Jean-- Jean, how did you know? Where did you come from? You were gone, I wasn't even sure if I'd see you again..."

He doesn't want to talk right now. He just wants to lay there, tucked against Marco's chest. His Omega scent is so soothing. It's one of the only ones he can still pick out through his smoke-addled senses. The one that led him here. He raises his head, showing his teeth...

Marco makes a frightened sound, and turns his neck away. No, of course not. He shouldn't do that right now. What was he thinking? Jean re-angles himself and licks gently at the still slowly-oozing cut on Marco's throat, unsteadily crooning in a way he thinks is reassuring. Marco chokes on a sorrowful laugh.

"You idiot. I'm not hurt," He nudges him affectionately, "you're the that's gonna be making a puddle in a minute here..."

"Nnh. I heal," he groans, and shifts just enough to make eye-contact, "What'd they do to you?"

"...Nothing, Jean. You saw it all. They barely had the chance to touch me."

Of course, this is the furthest thing from nothing, but it is less than the worst. Jean rumbles unhappily, dissatisfied, but Marco shushes him.

"It's okay. Come on; let's see if I can still carry you."

He gathers himself, wiping away his tears and taking a few deep breaths, and scoops his friend up close. Jean submits, and folds neatly into his arms, all angles and bones. The last thing Marco needs right now is some Alpha posturing toughness at him.

"You don't eat enough... You always come back thin as a bird."

"Ma hasn't been feeding me."

"She's gonna be mad."

Jean blows air through his lips. As they exit the alley, Marco finds Jean's bag, and picks that up too. It's late enough that no-one's passed by, or taken it. He really is a sturdy Omega. It's too bad that no matter how strong he is, he'll never match up to an Alpha. He'll always have to fear situations like that one...

"Where are we even going?"

"I got my own place while you were gone," Marco shifts him in his grip, "unless you wanna go to a hospital?"

"Fuck, no," he's not ready for that kind of exposure yet at all, let alone whatever horrible treatment they might devise for him, "I don't think they broke anything. I'm fine."

"Yeah. I don't want to explain either."

Oh yeah. Jean can still taste blood in his mouth, blood that isn't his. That would be a problem.

"I'm gonna put you on your feet. There're cameras in the building."

"Right."

Marco still holds nearly all of his weight, so it isn't a problem. Black dots swirl around his vision, but as long as someone's guiding him, he doesn't need to see. The elevator is a temporary problem, as gravity shifts underneath him, but he makes it alright. He knows when they enter his apartment as his smell closes in from all sides. It's not unwelcome.

"Take me to the bathroom."

"The bathroom?" Marco hefts him up by the belt, "it's okay, I don't care if you stain the couch--"

" _The bathroom,_ " Jean strains around the growing lump in his throat, and Marco understands, bodily dragging him the rest of the way there. He sees the shape of the toilet and pushes Marco away so he can vomit in peace, and not accidentally on his best friend. Still, Marco sits next to him and rubs his back.

It's mostly blood that he swallowed while he was fighting, thankfully not his own. But the thought is so repulsive that he retches violently until he's absolutely sure that he's empty. Jean hangs his neck over the rim of the seat and gathers saliva in his mouth to spit, over and over. Marco gives him some water, and he uses that to get the last of it out from between his teeth.

He's guided into the tub, and helped out of his ruined clothes. His body is littered with slowly healing wounds, claw-marks and semi-circular patterns of teeth, bruises, and a nasty stab in his side that continues to bleed. Jean makes a clumsy attempt at washing himself, but Marco takes the sponge from him and does it for him, concentrated and tender. He whines quietly. Jean closes his eyes.

When he opens them again, he's on a bed. He's been given a pair of pajama pants to wear, and the worst of his injuries have been neatly dressed. By tomorrow, he'll be feeling much better. The window is open, and a summer breeze is blowing in.

Marco sits next to him.

"I'm sorry, Jean," he places his hand over one of his own; "I know you don't like being here. You don't like being a Dynamic..."

"No," Jean cuts him off, "I don't. But I'd do it again; as long as you're safe... don't freaking apologize for something awful happening to you."

It's obvious Marco means to apologize again, but he swallows it down. He looks away.

"...You tried to bond me."

"Yeah," Jean still remembers that moment clearly, "sorry. You smelled like it. I'm not used to scents yet."

Marco doesn't respond right away, fidgeting like he really wants to say something, but won't.

"I... I hate it when you're gone, Jean. I know you have to leave sometimes, but I always feel so disoriented, and... Lonely. You've been a part of my life for so long, and when you just disappear..."

So that's it. Jean takes a painful breath.

"Marco, you don't want me to bond you. I'm a shitty Alpha. The worst. And you just had a bunch of shitty Alphas treat you like a piece of meat. I wouldn't do that to you, bond you when you're vulnerable"

"...I know," Marco looks away in shame, “I mean, you're not the worst. But those Alphas-- I just, I don't..."

"You don't want me to leave you."

Marco nods, nearly ready to cry.

"...I'm sorry. I've messed you up with all my crap."

Jean turns his neck to Marco, vulnerable and submissive. He's not very good at controlling his scent, but he's trying to be calming. Marco makes a sound in question.

"Hey, I'm covered in bites as it is-- what's one more?"

Marco snorts, and Jean realizes that his laughter is all he really wants to hear.

"I thought you said we shouldn't," he sniffs, and rubs at his eyes.

"I said that _I_ shouldn't," Jean murmurs, "and I won't. But if you want me, you can have me."

"Jean..."

A one-way bond isn't very strong, and if he's the only one sealing it, Marco won't feel the "link" that most couples share. And it may not last. But it will make it nearly impossible for Jean to abandon him.

"I can't do that to you."

"You're not doing anything. You're always with me already... You're what I come back for."

Marco nearly chokes on his smile, the happiness he feels when Jean says that. For a second, he can't speak.

"If I do this, I'm gonna do my best to make you happy too. With yourself, or whatever you want to do, or be..."

"I don't doubt it."

Jean nods back again, exposing his neck further. But he keeps his eyes open, watching as Marco leans in with careful trepidation, feeling his hot breath puff against his skin and his scent gland. Dynamics always talk about this moment, how good it feels and how it changes your life, and excitement bubbles up in his chest as blunt teeth graze softly against the spot Marco has chosen. He hopes that even he'll be able to enjoy it.

"I love you," he hears him whisper, and feels his lips form the words, before he bites down.

Jean groans so loud that Marco is sure the neighbors can hear. He arches against the bed, fingers and toes curling as the most intense, strange sensation overcomes him. It's not erotic, but a different itch altogether that's being scratched, deeply satisfying. It sends a rush through his whole body. For the first time since he was a teenager he notices his own scent, as it's one he hasn't smelled before. It's a gentle, warm, earthy scent. It breaks through all the smoke in his system, and for once, he likes it.

And Marco. He sees him in a way he never has before. He's developed tunnel vision, zeroing in on his new "mate". He almost seems to glow. Jean croons unbidden, and grasps Marco's arms to pull him in close, cuddling him chest-to-chest and memorizing his special scent. He lets him shift around to be more comfortable, but otherwise does not plan to let him go for a good long while.

"Jean-- aren't I making you uncomfortable?"

"Never," he replies, voice a good octave lower than usual, and he feels Marco shiver in his grasp, "...Don't worry. I just want to keep you close."

Marco relaxes quickly. He finds that Jean's new presence is even more wonderful for his nerves than usual. He tucks himself in in the curves of his arms, not sleeping, but he could stay this way all night and still be happy. Jean's deep croon lulls his mind into a state of quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that got everything across that I meant to, without being overly expository, and the feelings were coherent and consistent... I'll be going into more detail in the next chapter
> 
> Again, thank you for all your support in the kudos and comments, I love talking to you and hearing your suggestions! <3
> 
> (Also, this chapter broke my total all-fic word count to 100k! Woo-hoo!)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been awhile, hasn't it?
> 
> After enough solicitors took advantage of my Tumblr inbox (which I appreciate, so please continue to do so) I decided to give the people what they want and finish this Godforsaken fic. You may notice a change of tone, because damn, it's been a long time. I hope you can indulge me and overlook it.
> 
>  **This chapter is still in the flashback from the previous one!** Don't be confused!

Jean wakes up slowly the next morning. He honestly hadn't expected to fall asleep at all, but such a feeling of comfort overcame him that he couldn't help himself. Holding Marco that night soothed his normally invasive Alpha urges, his perfect, calming natural scent blocking out any lingering smells of danger and conflict.

Marco isn't lying next to him anymore. There's a warm blanket cast over him in his stead. Jean turns over and buries his face in his pillow. It's drenched in his new mate's smell. He rumbles pleasantly in response to his little discovery, nuzzling his nose into the fabric and taking a deep breath. It's been so long since he's been among his own kind, and could pick out anything besides his own muted musk...

He hears a creak of floorboards underfoot outside the bedroom door, and his senses spark into action alarmingly fast and with an acuteness he's never felt before. He can suddenly tell where Marco is, in relation to the rest of the apartment, walking back and forth. It's like a second consciousness ghosting alongside his own, that he isn't in control of, but he's still perfectly aware of its movements and feelings.

It's disorienting. He doesn't hate it at all, because he knows that it's Marco, and to a lesser degree, his "half-mate", but it's like having a brand new sixth sense that he suddenly has to accustom himself to. Jean closes his eyes as the initial dizziness fades, and then slowly sits up, letting his mind follow Marco's ghost. It's not too hard to do, since he's so close by.

After tentatively mastering that skill, he tries to move his own consciousness a little, to reach out and touch Marco's. For some reason, he feels like that's something he should be able to do, to get his attention like Marco has gotten his. But no matter how hard he tries, he can't get Marco to react.

At first, Jean just assumes that he sucks at it, like practically every other thing an Alpha has to do. But after a few more tries, he remembers why. They only bonded one way. He took on all of the burden-- Marco doesn't feel this extra consciousness the way he's feeling it.

Jean doesn't think he's been cheated; he meant it when he said he was a shitty Alpha and he didn't want to _claim_ Marco right after what had happened to him. It would be a fuck up on all accounts. If this situation was what made Marco happy, then that was the end of it.

He'll protect him. He'll kill anyone who ever tries to touch him against his will. And when he finds a good Alpha, a real Alpha that can give him everything he needs and treats him with respect, then he'll let this bond fade. Jean ignores the sharp pain in his heart and tries to forget the sound of the words _I love you._

The light he sees stops pacing back and forth. Jean gets up, lightly holding his bandaged side. He can tell that it's nearly healed, but it still stings a bit, and the muscles there are twitching and weak. He opens the door to leave the bedroom.

The scent of distress hits him like an 18 wheeler. Jean's lips curl back, and he gags silently as his tongue grazes over the roof of his mouth, tasting it. It's awful. Normal, happy, sweet smells he can take, but this is bitter and sour. He has to shake himself to clear the way it fogs his head. The feeling isn't much different from when he caught whiff of it last night and followed it to that alleyway, pushing up protective urges... He squints around the haze in his vision as he enters the living room.

Marco is sitting on the couch, his phone clutched in one tight fist, his head in his hands. Jean's breath catches at the sight. He has to do something. He has to make it right. But how? His instincts are useless; they never tell him anything worthwhile.

He takes another step forward, meaning to be quiet, but the old wooden floor creaks under his feet. Marco looks up, his stress visible for the second before he sees Jean. Then he puts on a smile. It's not completely pure; Jean can see some uncertainty and wariness in there, but it's also hopeful.

"Jean..." he says his name, softly, and that feeling like the air has left his lungs seizes Jean's chest again, "good morning. I didn't think I should wake you up, you were sleeping really soundly."

"Yeah," he croaks, his voice unexpectedly hoarse, scratching at his side awkwardly, "I, uh... I was really tired. I'd been in that car forever, and then..."

Marco shakes his head. Jean gets it. _Let's not._

"I-- I just had to repeat everything to the police. So."

That explains his stress, and why he has his phone in his hand. Jean takes another step forward, with a slight nod, and Marco scootches over on the couch to make room for him. When he sits, the parasympathetic response to his scent is strong, like he's never felt as a dynamic before. It nearly duplicates the emotion Marco is feeling in Jean. It's presence is overwhelming. It claws in the back of his throat, and Jean makes a gagging noise.

Marco looks at him in question. Was he still feeling ill from last night?

"No, it's not..." Jean responds, a little surprised that he could guess at Marco's intentions without him saying anything at all, "It's your scent. It's really strong. I haven't smelled another dynamic in months."

"O-oh," Marco stutters, and lowers his head, radiating shame, "sorry, I'll try to keep it under control..."

"No, geez, Marco... Don't," Jean sighs and runs his fingers up through his shaggy hair. He needs to get his undercut back in control, "it's not your fault at all. You've got everything right. I'm the one that needs to get his shit together."

"I know how you are. It's not your fault either. I don't want you to be uncomfortable, Jean."

The words are so plain and sincere that Jean can't argue with him. He _wants_ to, he hates this stupid affliction, he hates _himself_ , but the words have been said a thousand times and lead to nothing. Marco looks at him with those swimming brown eyes, and he's forced to hold his hatred quietly until its whispers fade.

"How..." Marco barely whispers, glancing up shyly, "how is, um... Did the bond take okay?"

Jean arches his eyebrows at him. Marco ducks further in embarrassment-- not out of regret, but because he's genuinely flustered. The corners of Jean's mouth begin to curl upwards.

"Yeah. It took," he replies, that deep voice he heard from himself last night coming out again, and it pulls Marco back to him, "you wouldn't know, huh."

"Wouldn't know?"

"Mmm," Jean hums, trying to think of a way to explain what he's experiencing. His fingers lightly graze over the raised scar of their mark, all healed over, and as he looks off in thought he can't see the way it entrances Marco, "it's like... a fire. You've got this fire inside of you, and I can see it now. I can close my eyes and see where you are, even if there's stuff between us."

Marco's eyes widen.

"I... don't see anything like that."

"I didn't expect you could," Jean shrugs, "I tried to, I guess, touch you? By reaching out with my mind. But it didn't work. You didn't respond at all."

"Oh," Marco looks down, "I'm sorry."

"Stop it, would you?" Jean gives him a friendly, exasperated grimace, gently shoving his shoulder with his knuckles. Marco can't help but smile, wavering, "this was my idea to begin with. And I'm not upset about it. This makes it easier for me to keep you safe... As long as you don't feel weird about me knowing that kind of thing."

"No, no. It's okay," he shakes his head, "It was my decision too. We're warned about how intimate this is. I... I knew."

He makes a trilling hum in his throat, and leans against Jean. He puts his cheek on his shoulder and his soft hair brushes against the bond mark he made the night before. Jean swallows thickly. His hand raises before he even realizes it, hovering over the back of Marco's neck.

Dynamics are taught all theirs lives that that you don't, under any circumstances, touch an Omega's nape without their permission. And he was just recently mishandled. Jean's fingers dance in uncertainty.

"...G-go ahead," Marco stutters, and Jean's hand retracts in surprise. He must have felt his hair being teased, just barely. His eyes are closed with a slight crease, like he's waiting to be shocked, but determined to be touched. His scent lingers with anticipation.

Jean places his palm down flat where his shoulders blades meet. The skin there is dusted with freckles. Marco worries his lip. He draws his hand up, slowly, and the Omega's spine rolls. He runs his thumb up the vertebrae in his neck, takes a vice grip, and then pulls back, kneading slowly.

Marco's response isn't erotic, but one of relief. A deep sigh leaves his nose, and he leans his weight heavily and comfortably against Jean. His face slacks in relaxation, and he puts up a quiet purr. The acrid scent of distress that was wafting around him slowly fades away.

"Thank youuuuu," he groans, like a great, pleased pussycat, and Jean snickers.

"Anytime, Marco."

\--

After their timely reunion, Jean makes board on Marco's couch. While he's never had a problem finding employment and a place to sleep, whether in the Packs or out in the human world, there's always some time skidding in-between. And being around Marco's scents, however sweet he normally finds them, help him to ease back into Dynamic life.

The very next day, at a visit to his childhood home, Marco's mother makes sure to scold him for leaving for such an extended trip without a word, not staying in touch, not eating properly... Everything a real mother should scold their vagrant son about. Then she opens her arms, hugs him for much longer than is strictly necessary, and feeds him until he can't move anymore.

Her plan is obvious. Pamper him until he's made invalid. Then he'll really never be able to leave the Packs again.

Marco receives similar treatment. He and his mother and father have already talked over the phone about what had happened, and Jean's rescue, and he must have made it clear then that he wants space, and doesn't want to make a big deal out of things. It would just make it harder to forget. But he's still coddled, and he knows better than to complain. He receives his family's fretting warmly.

His mother still takes Jean away by himself later in secret, hugs him again, and cries. His father shakes his hand in gratitude and calls him a real Alpha. He's never felt more awkward, but he can also feel pride burn within him for the first time since he saved Marco.

While in a food-related coma, lying in an arm-chair and trying to find a way to belch without throwing up, he can hear Marco and his mother having a conversation just far enough out of earshot that he can't quite make out what they're saying. But it sounds like she's reminding him of something, and he's trying to convince her that he understands He isn't in distress, so Jean doesn't pay it much mind.

He wonders if any of his family has noticed his bond-mark. They'd have to look for it, since he doesn't have a bonded scent on him. He's been properly resisting all those urges. If they do know, they're being extremely surreptitious, because he can't see the question hanging around at all while they make conversation.

Familial obligations behind him, Jean spends his time trying to get back on his feet. Going out for job interviews is tough, since most of the places he's going to are just looking for cheap labor from Alphas. Their offices absolutely reek of dominant scents, and it riles him up. He has to smoke more frequently to deal with the way it sets him off.

But coming "home" is wonderful. Being close to Marco's fire is like returning to a warm hearth after a bitterly cold day. Jean has never felt more at ease in another Dynamic's presence. He often finds himself closing his eyes to examine his aura, the way it flickers and moves as he smiles or laughs... And then shrinks down small in embarrassment as Marco realizes what he's doing.

When they both part at night to retire to their separate spaces, Jean watches and waits for Marco's flame to gently subside, indicating sleep. Sometimes it lingers for quite awhile. Jean isn't sure why.

Someday, he'll have to pass this candle onto someone else. He hopes that they can appreciate how perfect its light is, and they never let it go out... No. They will, or he'll make them bite the curb.

"...Jean?"

He blinks back into reality. Jean is leaning over the side of the apartment's balcony, cigarette in mouth. He turns back to Marco, on the other side of the screen door, who points emphatically to his own lips. Jean gives a cross-eyed look down to his cigarette, which has burnt down to the filter before he could even bother to take a drag.

Oh. He disposes of it, mashing it to death into the ashtray on the balcony's edge. It really needs to be emptied. The embers crackle and glow against the dusk.

"Are you okay? You're brooding."

"Yeah," he replies, and he's not sure if he's telling the truth or not. Marco, however, seems to know. Time to change the subject, "I'm pretty confident about today's interview. They didn't ask too many questions."

"That's good," he nods, and relaxes a little, taking a step back to sit on the arm of the couch in the living room while Jean comes back in, "what about the house hunt?"

He doesn't need to close his eyes to see the way Marco's aura waves in uncertainty as he asks that question. It bothers him.

"This building is above my price point," Jean fishes, to see how Marco responds, and he feels another wave of the same emotion, "but I'm trying to find a place nearby."

"Right... right," Marco takes a deep breath. Jean does his best to try and ascertain what's causing his anxiety, but he can't pinpoint it. He comes closer, and puts a gentle hand on top of his head.

"I'm not abandoning you," he starts, and gets another reaction, this time stronger, "I'll still know where you are, and if you're okay or not... I'll protect you, I promise."

Marco mumbles understanding. Jean runs his hand down to his neck, and massages him. Everything will be okay. It has to be. He won't allow anything but.

\--

Jean's new job starts before he's able to find a new place to live. He isn't sure if he's pleased about this, or anxious. He likes to stay close to Marco and to be able to be right there for him whenever he needs it; but the longer he stays, the harder it will be for him to force himself to put distance between him and his half-mate when the time comes.

Work is difficult to adjust to. His frequent smoke breaks don't go over well with his supervisors, so he has to learn to bear the scents around him and not do anything stupid. It's hard. He's surrounded by Alphas, and even while working together peacefully, they give off pheromones that trigger his fight reaction. He can't pal around with them or try to make friends when he can barely stand their Dynamic presence.

His spirits sink lower and lower. He's tense and standoffish during the day and tired and depressed at night. Marco makes attempts to help, and even just his effort means something to Jean, but he's not sure if he should accept it or not. Most of their conversations in this line end awkwardly.

About halfway through another work day, Jean notices something different in Marco. From this far away, he can't make out exactly where he is, but can get a vague sense of how he's feeling. He takes a quick break to try and get a better hold on what's going on.

The sensation is sharp, but not upset. He's not in danger. It's like a pull. He's being pulled towards where-ever Marco is.

Does he want to see him? This feeling is completely new in its severity. Jean is highly tempted to leave his job early, but he's not getting along well here as it is, and even Marco should know that he can't go. He half-heartedly continues working, keeping a close eye on his bond to make sure the need doesn't become more urgent.

As he returns home, the closer he gets, the more intense everything becomes. He was right before, Marco wants him. Bad. Entering his apartment building makes him feel like he's being lassoed in, and he can see Marco's glow change from a flicker to a wild conflagration. Jean can tell he's responding already, breaking into an anxious sweat, glands tightening. What's going on?

He enters the apartment and immediately chokes. The air is so heavy with scent, he can taste it, hell, he can practically see it as his eyes reflexively mist over. The smell is perfumey, sweet, musky, and very strongly Marco. Jean tries to breath through his mouth, but it doesn't help at all. He paws behind himself to make sure he's locked the door, and gets down on his hands and knees.

Fuck. He's never experienced this before, such a strong erotic smell, not simply elicitory, but one that he knows is specifically meant for him as his bond continues to be pulled at. The place where it tugs, down in his gut, right below his navel, it goes right to his dick. He's getting hard. What is he supposed to do? Marco wants him. Is this some kind of Omega...

 _Heat._ It comes to him all at once, as Marco's presence flares out and licks against him. Jean slowly gets back to his feet, anticipatory quivers running through his body as he makes his way towards the bedroom, only half-aware that he's moving forward.

His pupils expand when he sees Marco laid out on the bed, half-covered by a sheet. Everything comes into a sharp focus. The Omega stirs, lifting his head to look over his shoulder. His expression is unfathomable, a mixture of lust, shame, embarrassment, desire, need. A quiet mewl passes his lips, and Jean is upon him in a moment, desperately rubbing their necks together, relieving his glands and mixing their scents.

"Jean. Oh, Jean..."

Marco purrs as Jean frantically writhes to mark every last inch of him, like a man possessed. It smells so good. He's been home, trying to hold back his heat, barely touching himself for several hours, waiting for him to return. He wanted Jean, and nothing or no-one else would do!

"Please-- please, Jean, will you heat with me?"

He forces the question out; he wants Jean to hear it, he wants Jean to have a choice no matter how badly he desires him. Marco slows his panting to hear his response.

"No one else," Jean mumbles, a bit hazy and over-heated, "you want me. Just me."

"Oh," why does he pick now, of all times, to start acting like an Alpha, when he doesn't have the patience to deal with it! His possessive tone is so satisfying, and he sends a rush of pleasure through his body, but he needs a clear answer before he can let go, and allow this to continue, "I-I meant yes or no..."

" _Yes_." he growls, deep out of the bottom of his chest. Jean is consumed by Marco's aura, he can feel it burning in his blood, he craves it, he wants to dig to the very center of it... His instincts are clear! He knows what to do! Every urge he's fought back and swallowed down surges forth at once. He struggles out of his clothing, made completely impatient by Marco's whines as he submits. He wants their skin to touch, everywhere!

Jean takes both of his hands in his own, flipping Marco to his back and pinning him down, and leans in to draw his tongue up his scent glands, eliciting the most beautiful moan. He licks and nips and teases, only stopping himself from biting, as much as he'd like to. Marco thrusts his hips helplessly upwards, dying for contact.

Sensing his twitching, Jean rolls his groin down, and their cocks graze. Marco lets out such a cry that Jean gains the presence of mind to pause, just barely.

"Don't stop," Marco moans, chest heaving, "it's the heat, I... Jean, all I've wanted is you! Don't stop! Don't go!"

Jean captures his mouth before he can cry out further. He grinds down again, hard, and swallows every sweet noise that Marco makes. Their fingers curl, uncurl, wrap around each other. Marco pushes back with enough strength to heave Jean off of him, giving him the time to turn over and lift his hips to lewdly present his ass. Slick has already begun to drip down the insides of his thighs.

The sight and smell of it triggers every Alpha nerve in Jean's body. He grabs Marco's cheeks roughly and spreads them wide, so he can lean in to lick around his asshole. The taste of him is ambrosia on his lips, so good that he presses the tip of his tongue in to try and find the source of that sweetness. Marco pushes back against that muscle, forcing a needy cry out of his gut.

He needs more! Deeper! Thicker! This tiny, feathery touch just might drive him insane! He whines and whimpers as Jean retracts, looking back over his shoulder to beg further, but is struck dumb by the sight of Jean's amazing Alpha cock, fully erect as he positions himself between Marco's hips. He's never been penetrated before, aside from pleasuring himself, he doesn't know what it's going to be like...

" _Ahn!_ "

Jean slides in effortlessly, hot, hard and _huge_ , with a supple give that's so much more natural than using a dildo. He rubs against his prostate with barely any effort, weakening his knees. And to have someone else work for him-- every sensation is multiplied tenfold. Marco pants and mewls and makes every Omega sound he knows how, encouraging Jean, curling his grip into fists against the sheets. He feels one arm wrap in front of his hips, and a hand grasp around his weeping dick, and everything starts moving.

He draws in and out in a swaying, rocking motion, using his hand to pump Marco in time with his thrusts. Marco feels the timing and starts to press himself back as Jean pushes forward, his walls tightening around his cock each time he strikes his prostate, as if refusing to let the pressure go. Jean rumbles a deep, pleasured groan behind him, and it sends shivers up his spine. Lips press against his shoulders, and Jean thrusts harder, deeper...

Oh God. This is an Alpha. He's somehow getting bigger, and thus, his movements more shallow as he can no longer pull all the way out. Is this the knot? The way it pushes and stretches him out satisfies the most primal Omega desire within him, and he whines loud, shuffling backward to completely envelop Jean, and clamps down tightly.

Something hot surges inside him, and Jean growls through his nose as he bites down at the nape of Marco's neck. His hips are jerking wildly now, but make little progress as his dick has grown too thick to slide. He knows when his knot is coming, and makes another snarling noise as it struggles to form against Marco's tight insides, hot, and pulsing. He loves it, he loves it all! The sounds, the smells, everything Marco, everything Alpha, being a Dynamic! This is something he can really enjoy! He strikes forward as hard as he can, and gains just enough purchase for them to lock together, triggering the most savage orgasm he's ever experienced!

Marco gasps as he spills out inside of him, and savors the peculiar sensation of hot cum locked inside of him... The pressure and warmth cause him to come as well. It's not the screaming, intense way he usually experiences orgasm, but gentle and _long_. He ejaculates, with the help of Jean's hand, and his insides light up with pleasure and lingering after-shocks as he remains tied to Jean. His heat abates in cooling waves.

He tries to look behind himself again. Jean has a hand on either side of his hips, bracing him so he doesn't tug on his knot, and his forehead is touching the skin near the small of his back. He's panting for breath.

"...Thank you," Marco hazards quietly, and Jean's attention jerks up with a slight wince, "I know that that was sudden. I could have told you-- given you more time, maybe..."

He just wanted him so badly. He knew his heat was coming, and he could have sequestered himself, but... If there was a chance, that Jean would stick it out with him, he wanted to take it.

Jean shakes his head. To make this conversation slightly less awkward, he gently gathers Marco up and lifts him, so he can sit in his lap. His knot is more comfortable this way. He brushes his lips against the back of Marco's neck. His scent, his sweat, so sweet. Jean doesn't feel choked anymore. He feels good.

"I'm never going to be able to let you go..."

"You don't have to," Marco whines under his breath at the thought, "I don't want you to."

"You don't understand, I'm not--"

"Jean, don't insult me!"

Marco is so insistent that it snaps Jean out of his momentary melancholy.

"Of course I understand! I understand better than anybody! I've known you since we were little, and I knew you when you were determined... I know what you go through. And I don't think it makes you less of an Alpha, or a Dynamic, or a person. Anything."

He leans back a little, making himself more snug against Jean.

"You try really hard. No matter how much you struggle, you never take it out on others. And you've always, always, taken amazing care of me," he looks up at him in genuine gratitude, "you saved me, Jean. Whenever I need you, you appear. I don't trust anyone in the world as much as I trust you. So don't discredit our relationship."

"...I'm sorry," Jean mumbles, a little flabbergasted by Marco's conviction, "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know," Marco sighs, "You think that you're not good enough for me, or something equally stupid."

"Jesus, Marco!" he knows? how does he know? "If you know, then why..."

"I'm telling the truth now, okay? I'm sorry for not doing this earlier, but no more being shy!" although he's turning bright red, "I've got your dick in my ass, so the line's already been crossed!"

Jean chokes on the ugliest laugh, and Marco huffs. But Jean just holds him closer.

"Thanks. We do seem to be suited for each other, like this," he murmurs. Intimacy is a tricky business between Dynamics, but extremely important. to know that he's sexually compatible with Marco...

"Yeah," Marco nods, reaching up to stroke his hand through Jean's hair, "you were perfect, just so you know. Your instincts were right on cue."

It's just what Jean needs to hear.

\--

Eventually, his knot eases. They pull apart from each other, and Marco lies down. He's on birth control, so his heats aren't as intense. It might be a few more hours before he gets the urge to mate again. Jean decides to stay by his side, relaxing and watching his aura.

"Are you watching my 'fire' again?"

Jean didn't realize he was being observed. He stretches in place, rolls over to face Marco, and nods.

"It was really intense earlier, but now it's about like normal."

"I wish I could see yours," Marco sighs, longing. Jean pauses.

"...Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do."

"No. I mean..." Jean touches his bond-mark, and Marco's eyes widen a little in understanding, "it's really binding. It's. It's a bond."

"I don't know it worked for you," he begins, with an increasingly fond smile, "but I think I've already decided I'm stuck with you, whether I like it or not."

"That's one heck of a decision to make. I'm a challenge. I'm still not good with scents, and my instincts don't always work right. I fuck up a lot," Jean touches the back of his hand to Marco's cheek, "you've really thought about it?"

"Yeah," Marco takes his hand, "I was sort of hoping you would on your own, after awhile... I'm sorry. I should have been more straightforward with you."

"It's okay. I think... I think we'll figure stuff out after awhile."

"Mm," Marco nods, warmly, "I wasn't lying when I said I'd do anything to make sure you're happy."

"I didn't think you were," Jean lowers his eyes, "I just wasn't listening right."

He feels a gentle hand take his chin and lift his gaze. Marco takes his attention by leaning his neck back, exposing and submissive.

Jean traces his fingers over his glands with a barely-there touch, examining, mapping, choosing. He wants to make the perfect mark, one that he'll love to touch and look at. He leans forward and grazes his teeth against Marco's skin until he knows he's found the spot. He can feel Marco swallow and the tendons in his neck stand out as he tenses.

"Sorry if this hurts," he apologizes in advance, and Marco just chuckles liltingly and shakes his head.

He opens his mouth wide, for extra purchase, and _bites_. He figures quicker is better, like ripping off a band-aid. Marco gasps and writhes, and Jean keeps him in place with his teeth, sunk in deep. The taste of his blood mixed with the powerful scent being emitted straight into his mouth is rich and intoxicating, like wine.

Jean only pulls back when he knows he's made a deep mark. Then he tenderly laps at Marco's wound, until the bleeding stops, knowing that an Omega won't heal like an Alpha. But he's purring, louder than Jean has ever heard him purr before. He takes that as a good sign.

"...It's such a lovely color."

He looks up. Marco's eyes are closed, and he has the most serene smile on his face.

"Color?"

"Yeah. Your... You're right, it's just like fire. It's a perfect amber color, like honey or resin."

Color. Jean had never thought about the color before. He closes his eyes too.

"Yours is..." he pauses to think about what he's seeing. Jean is far from a poet; Marco is the one that has a way with words,"it's a dark, dark red. So dark it's almost brown."

Jean feels arms wrap around him. He feels something else wrap around him too, immediately comforting and calming. Like he had tried to touch Marco's fire before-- Marco is enveloping him with his. The missing link he longed for is now complete.

"You like it?"

"Mm-hm," Marco buries his face in Jean's hair, "I love it."

"...I love it too," Jean whispers, reveling in the unique intimacy of the newly bonded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one final chapter after this one-- a much shorter epilogue. It might take me awhile to finish it, but I promise that I will!
> 
> Thanks for reading, please leave a kudos or a comment if you so desire!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get such a short epilogue to you!

"Jean, seriously, it's going to be okay!"

He's pacing the floor of their apartment, chewing on his thumbnail, looking about nervously. For the past week or so, everything's been kind of messy, but's they've cleaned up a bit in preparation for receiving a guest. Even Marco, who's been opting for comfort for a while now, has put on something a little nicer than usual, and made himself presentable. Emelia has just been fed, and is cooing and pawing her limbs about gently in his arms.

Everything is perfect, and calm, and in order. And Jean is about to have an aneurysm.

He rifles through his pockets for a sucker, shakily unwraps it, and then bites through the candy with a single, loud _crunch_. Marco makes a sound halfway between laughter and sighing.

"It's just Armin! _Armin!_ ," he pleads with his mate, unable to hide his amusement, "he's an Omega! He has kids of his own! Not to mention he's half our sizes, and about as threatening as a church mouse."

"I know, okay?" Jean replies, not in a snappy way, but genuinely beside himself, "I can't help it, another person coming in here is just..."

He shakes himself like a dog would, with an audible 'brrrr' sound.

"It gives you the willies," Marco finishes for him, "The Alpha willies. I understand, okay? But mom was here for awhile, and you were okay with that!"

"That's because it's _mom!_ She's like, my mom too! And, I don't know, that just felt safe, I didn't have any reaction to it."

He starts pacing again, and Marco wishes he could tie him down. Just watching him like this is exhausting, even if it is the proper reaction he should be having as an Alpha.

"You need to get used to this, alright? That other people exist in the world, and she's going to have to be around them," he repeats for what feels like the dozenth time, and Jean still has a look in his eye like he could keep that from happening if he really wanted to, "you'll be right here the whole time. There's absolutely nothing to be worried about."

Jean knows that he's right. He's got a brain that's still capable of reason. But God damn if his instincts aren't screaming at him otherwise. He takes a deep breath and rakes his hands up through his freshly-cut hair a few times.

The doorbell rings. Jean's attention shoots up like lightning.

"Don't you dare make him feel unwelcome!" Marco adds sternly, unable to get up and answer Armin himself. Jean grits his teeth tightly behind closed lips, and takes a few short, planned stepped towards their entranceway. The knob feels slick under his clammy hands.

He opens the door. Armin stands there, small as ever, with a bag over his shoulder, looking up at Jean with those unblinking blue eyes of his.

"...Hello?" Armin tries, when he doesn't get a greeting, and Jean feels like he just swallowed a wasp's nest. His whole body buzzes angrily, and he knows if he opens his mouth, the bees are going to come pouring out. His face screws up, and Armin takes a confused but respectful step backwards.

"Ignore him!" Marco calls from the living room, and the blonde peers around Jean to find his friend sitting on the couch, "he's having an Alpha moment! Please, come in!"

"Oh. Um, alright," Armin nods, and then carefully edges his way around Jean, still standing unhelpfully in the doorway. He tries to give him a little more room to get in, he really does, but it's very hard when nearly every fibre of his being honestly wants this intruder to stay out.

At least he still remembers to close the door behind him. He then leans his head against said door in an attempt to cool down.

He looks sort of pathetic, just standing there, with his back to the room. Marco throws his eyes up in exasperation, and Armin giggles under his breath.

"Don't worry," he tries to console him, putting down his bag, "you should have seen Eren when Celeste was born. If Levi didn't have such a powerful personality, no one would have seen her for weeks."

 _I can at least control myself better than that moron_ , Jean thinks to himself crossly, and it helps him to hold himself together as Armin takes a seat next to his mate. His gaze flicks over his shoulder, still protective as they settle in together in a very Omega fashion.

"She's beautiful," Armin murmurs, touching the baby's cheek with the back of his finger. She mewls quietly, perhaps acclimating to this new scent, and Jean turns around without thinking, but... Marco looks so happy. He's not bothered by any of this in the slightest. Jean leans his back against the wall as Armin continues to talk in hushed tones.

"I remember that smell. It's so sweet when they're so small."

"I know," Marco smiles, and gathers Emelia up closer to his chest, "it's wonderful."

"And you look well," he adds, briefly touching his cheek to Marco's shoulder, "have you been getting enough rest, with the complications that happened?"

"Oh, yeah. I can't strain myself, but mom was here for a few days, and Jean helps me with everything," Marco replies good-naturedly, glancing up to his Alpha. Jean can feel his cheeks getting warm, "even with middle-of-the-night feedings, and dirty diapers. He's great."

"They are good for something," Armin sneaks in slyly, and Marco chuckles, "when they aren't needlessly posturing--"

"Hey," Jean cuts him off, gruff, and Marco only laughs louder, "I'm doing my best here!"

"I know, I know," his mate placates him, and Armin looks up as well, his eyes sparkling with deviousness. Cutting the tension in the room must have been his plan from the beginning, "thank you. I love you."

Jean can't match that. Not verbally, not with someone else in the room. His blush spreads to his ears, and he shuffles around a bit, looking to his feet as the two Omegas continue to commune with each other. A gurgling growl rises in his throat when Armin finally gets the chance to hold Emelia himself, but a simple loving look from Marco silences him in an instant.

Geez. Some Alpha he is.

\--

After Armin leaves, Jean cooks dinner. Once they've eaten, Marco feeds Emelia again as his mate cleans up the dishes. Then Jean abducts his daughter for some much-needed daddy time.

Time that _he_ needs, of course. Having that foreigner in his territory did a number on his nerves, no matter how close or how harmless they were.

Marco watches in amusement from the love seat as Jean lays on the couch, feet propped up on the arm, with Emelia on his chest. He rubs her back, and gently grazes his jawbone against the top of her head, marking her with his scent.

"Are you afraid someone is going to steal her?" Marco teases, but Jean is too engrossed in his task to properly take the bait.

"I don't like her smelling like other people," he mumbles. Even Armin's fragrant Omega scent makes him feel uneasy. The baby wriggles in his grasp, and he gives her a calming lick on the forehead, "I like her just the way she was when she was born."

"And you're going to keep her that way?"

"Forever and ever," Jean replies flatly, knowing full well he's being ridiculous. He nuzzles her and begins to croon, deep and rumbling. It puts her right to sleep, something they discovered during a particularly long and inconsolable night.

When he feels himself calm down, he finally lifts his gaze back to Marco, expecting to be lectured. But he's smiling, eyes misty.

"You do so well with her," he says, his voice a little raw, "I always knew you would, it's just... It's so good to see."

"Of course," Jean replies, carefully readjusting his grip on the baby so she won't wake up as he makes himself vertical and takes a few steps over to where Marco is sitting. Jean understands exactly why he would be relieved, since he sometimes needs a little coaching around his fellow dynamics. But he didn't have a moment of doubt or hesitation when Emelia was born. His instincts did the work for him, "she's ours. I knew it right away."

He passes Emelia off to Marco, and cuddles up close, wrapping his arms around him, letting his fingers creep into his dark hair, any stray moisture quickly smeared off as he presses their cheeks together.

"Don't cry," Jean whispers, with the faintest hint of pleading in his tone.

"I'm happy," Marco replies, choked up, and lets out a wet laugh as Jean blots his tears away with ticklish kisses, "I swear, I'm happy! My wires are just all crossed, my hormones are still..."

"Okay, okay," Jean lets up, and massages his fingers into the back of Marco's neck instead. It helps to calm him, and even out his mood, "shh..."

"Oh, I'm a mess," he croaks, shifting Emelia so he can wipe his face clean, "Just watching you two chokes me up so much! When am I gonna be normal again?"

"But you've always been a blubberer," Jean replies, and gets a shove in return. It only makes him smile, "see? You're fine, you're just sensitive. In the right way. It'll be good for her, she'll be in touch with her emotions and stuff."

"And what'll you teach her?" Marco sniffs in amusement.

"To not take shit from anybody."

"Sounds like a good combination," he nods with a smile, and Jean leans into him again, so he can reach forward and smooth down Emelia's little bit of hair, " _we're_ a good combination."

"All three of us," Jean corrects quietly, looking down at his girl. He feels like he's gotten the family he's always wanted, and he feels it more sincerely than he's felt anything else before. He wouldn't trade this for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was an adventure!
> 
> Even if it was based on someone else's work, that's the first fic I've ever legitimately finished. It feels really good! I hope I can finish more in the future.
> 
> Thank you to all the JeanMarco fans that have stuck with me through this one. Now it's time for me to focus back on my otp... Even if you're not a fan of Jearmin, I ask that you check out my other offerings! I'll be working on those more often now!
> 
> Thank you, thank you again! Good night!


End file.
